


Heart Crimes

by rosyrotten



Series: Cat's Eye 'Verse [1]
Category: Marvel 616, Spider-Man (Comicverse), Spider-Man (Movies - Raimi), The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Background Johnny Storm/Peter Parker, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, General Acts of Criminality, Origin Story, Secret Identities Are Hard, Talk of domestic abuse (nothing on-screen)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 20:26:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1360633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosyrotten/pseuds/rosyrotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or alternatively, A Beginners Guide to Becoming a Teenage Supervillain  </p><p>When Felicia Hardy’s father is sent to jail, she decides drastic measures are required to keep her family afloat. But a certain spider-themed superhero seems determined to throw her plots (and love life) into complete disarray.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart Crimes

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to Meekins who always listens when I get carried away creating AUs and always gets hands on with headcanons. It's pretty much his fault I feel so strongly about Spider-Man side characters. 
> 
> And also to Cloudy, who heard how the whole damn AU plays out and still encouraged me to write. It's pretty much her fault I even read Spider-Man in the first place.

When Felicia Hardy was 14, she stole stuff. Little things. It wasn't quite a habit so much as a never-ending competition with herself. The things she could stealthily slide off a shelf and into her pocket, walk out a store and return again the next day. She didn't need to steal them, her parents could more than afford these silly little lip glosses, cheap trinkets and cute stationary, but to her this was a game. Even if there was only one player.

One day at school, she pickpocketed all the change out of jacket of the arrogant know-it-all boy sitting next to her in biology. He had refused to help her with her dissection and the angry welled up inside her until her moment came and the coins practically _fell_ into her hand. But when he almost cried in the cafeteria, suddenly unable to pay for his lunch, she bought it for him. With his own money. Felicia was smug. Her own version of karmic justice had been enacted.

At the height of her small-time thieving career, Felicia's father was sent to jail for his big-time cat burglary career. She stopped stealing after that. She was 16.

-

Felicia and her mother sat, stony-faced, in the front row of the gallery every day of the trial. Felicia watched her mom to avoid looking at her dad, but Mrs Hardy didn't once blink or move until the judge called for adjournment and then she stood and walked from the courtroom on wooden legs.

_She must have known_ , Felicia thought. But her father had denied any involvement or knowledge on his wife's behalf. As a result, Mrs Hardy was never even called to the witness stand.

When Felicia caught her father's eye on the last day as he was, with a heavy air of finality, led off through the back set of doors, she realised that this was the grim reality of love.

This is what families did for each other. Sometimes they stole for each other, sometimes they lied for each other. And sometimes they went to jail for each other.

-

On the morning of her first day back at school after her father was taken away in chains, Felicia stood in front of her open wardrobe, surveying the racks of pink and purple and blue with displeasure. The sounds of Mrs Hardy bustling in the kitchen downstairs drifted up through the very empty house. Everything but the kitchen and Felicia's room was packed up in boxes. Suddenly unable to make the mortgage payments on their beautiful suburban two-storey, four-bedroom home, Mrs Hardy and Felicia were moving to a boxy rented apartment in the city, closer to both school and Mrs Hardy's new secretarial job.

"It's just for a while," Mrs Hardy had soothed, but Felicia knew that it was not.

She scowled at the clothes. Everything was too bright, too garish, too close to her father's orange jumpsuit. She was  _grieving_ inside and didn't have the outfit to show it.

Felicia slammed the cupboard door shut and on an impulse ducked into her parent's bedroom. Tear open the lid of her father's belongings’ cardboard box, she pulled out an old, worn hoodie. It was maroon, threadbare at the elbows and perfect, she decided. She held to her face, breathed the comforting scent of washing soap and  _dad_ and thought, for a moment, she could still hear him whistling.

She pulled it over her head and it dropped to her knees. With a pair of black leggings and boots, she felt armoured for the day. Her mother said nothing about it as they ate breakfast in heavy silence.

On her way to school, catching the bus for the first and last time before they moved, Felicia was overcome with a wave of missing him. He was not dead, she reminded herself, but he may as well have been.

-

Felicia slumped over her copy of  _Frankenstein_ in English Lit. She had been trying unsuccessfully to read it for the last 45 minutes of class. The rest of her cohorts had gotten through it – or at least pretended to – in the week of school she missed and were now begrudgingly marching through a thematic discussion with their despairing teacher.

Felicia had gotten stuck on the subtitle. The Modern Prometheus. She knew who Prometheus was, a titan who had stolen fire from the Gods for the humans to use and for his crime that been bound to a stone to have an eagle peck out his liver for all eternity. Something about this set Felicia's mind on edge and she couldn't shake the image of her father in Prometheus' place.

“Miss Watson!” the teacher suddenly exploded and Felicia, like the rest of the class suddenly looked up to the entrance of the classroom, where a diminutive red-headed figure lingered in the doorway. “Do you understand what time this class starts?”

The student in question replied something in tone too quiet for Felicia to catch at the back of the room, but it obviously worked to soften the teacher who ordered her to take a seat.

Mary Jane Watson passed Felicia on her way to the only free seat behind hers and Felicia noticed with a sick feeling the ugly black eye darkening her usually bright complexion.

-

After class, Felicia and her heavy blanket of apathy took their sweet time gathering her belongings while Mary Jane tried to rush past the teacher and escape. She was caught, unsuccessful.

Passing by, Felicia couldn't help stretching her ears to hear the hushed conversation.

“If something's going on at home-” their teacher's face was contorted into a look of sympathetic concern.

“No, I,” Mary Jane floundered, “took a basketball to the face at practice.”

The teacher looked sceptical and without thinking, Felicia stepped in.

“It's true,” she said, with false confidence, making eye contact with the teacher to avoid the other girl's shocked look. “I saw it happen.”

“Miss Hardy,” the teacher started, obviously gearing up to confront them both.

“That's what happened,” Felicia cut in, folding her arms and drawing herself up to her full height, “leave it alone.”

Without another word, she took Mary Jane's wrist and pulled her into the corridor. They walked in silence past the lockers to a quiet wing of the school, where Mary Jane stopped and violently reclaimed her arm.

“What did you do that for?” Mary Jane demanded, humiliation blossoming angry across her face. Felicia's own temper flared up briefly before spluttering out. It was hard to feel angry, Felicia realised. Hard to feel anything but worn out.

Felicia shrugged, pulling her hands inside her sleeves. “Some sort of messed up hero complex for damsels in distress, maybe.”

Mary Jane laughed darkly and deflated suddenly, like all the feeling had rushed from her, too. They stood there facing each other, but looking at floor, in deafening silence. Felicia shifted from one foot to the other.

“Did you dad do that?” she started, sudden and awkward, gesturing half-heartedly at Mary Jane's bruise. Mary Jane raised a hand gingerly to her face, wincing when she brushed the edge of her black eye, but didn't reply. Her mouth dropped open slightly, eyes widening vulnerably.

“You should talk to the police,” Felicia continued, bravely, internally remarking on the irony of recommending the force that took her own father from her as a way of taking someone else's father away too. “Or at least the counsellor.”

“It's been dealt with,” Mary Jane replied matter-of-factly, face returning to its stony exterior. Felicia really didn't want to know what that meant. In fact, none of this had been any of her business in the first place. She cursed herself for getting involved when she should have been keeping her head down.

“Good,” she said, instead. “Then you should get some decent concealer and maybe go to  _basketball_ practice.”

Felicia turned and walked off, before Mary Jane could draw her any deeper into her drama. She had her own issues to deal with. Like catching up on  _Frankenstein_ and what she'd missed on the biology excursion to Oscorp.

“I like your hoodie,” the redhead called after her.

“Piss off, Mary Jane,” Felicia yelled back.

-

Felicia dropped the last cardboard box in her new room and pushed it with her knees flush against the wall. She brushed the hair from her forehead and exhaled long and slow.

Dropping onto the edge of her bed, she took in the view from the window the only slightly wider than her crossed arms. It overlooked an ordinary street, with shops and people and a hot dog stand. The sound of cars drifted seven stories up, muted through the glued-shut window.

Mrs Hardy popped her head around the doorframe. “Want some lunch before you start unpacking, kitten?”

Without looking away from the window, Felicia shook her head. Her mother’s quiet sigh filled the bedroom. “It’s only for a little while,” she promised, leaving Felicia alone again.

Felicia let her forehead fall forward onto the glass. It was warm from the sunshine.

-

Thursday morning saw Felicia heading to the Principal’s office instead of first period. Technically, she was there to see the school counsellor, but seeing as their offices were conjoined she was heading to the Principal’s office by default.

She was surprised to see Mary Jane slumped in the chair closest to the office door and rolled her eyes. Mary Jane’s bruise had faded to a yellow-green splotch, but the look wasn’t aided by her scowling expression. However, she looked up, startled but pleased as Felicia sank into the chair next to hers.

Felicia raised a questioning eyebrow at Mary Jane who shrugged. “Missed half a day of school yesterday. You?”

Felicia mimicked her shrug, refusing to answer. Mary Jane scowled again.

“What’s your problem?” Mary Jane snapped. Felicia curled her hands into fists in the sleeves of her jumper- another of her fathers.

“As if you didn’t know,” Felicia hissed back. Mary Jane shot her a sharp glance, but didn’t respond straight away. Felicia wondered if Mary Jane could feel that jab of electricity like she did in the air between them. They were close, Mary Jane pressed against the side of the chair, paused between breaths with some kind of taut energy.

“You know that biology field trip we took to—”

“I wasn’t there,” Felicia interrupted; her gaze jumped to Mary Jane’s lips before the tension broke like a wave over her and the other girl leant in closer.

“No, listen,” Mary Jane’s voice dropped to barely above a whisper. “Something happened there.”

“Miss Watson,” the Principal’s door suddenly swung open to reveal a severe looking woman. Mary Jane’s eyes went wide, as she swivelled in her chair and then back again, trying to convey some hidden meaning to Felicia. With a last silent pleading look, Mary Jane stood, scooping up her bag and dashing into the office.

Felicia stayed glued to her seat for another five minutes, staring at the closed door. Her heart knocked against the locked gate of her ribcage. She had gone into the counsellor’s rooms before Mary Jane re-emerged.

-

“ _Mom_ ,” Felicia yelled, pulling open a cupboard door with more force than strictly necessary, “where are the... towels,” she finished quietly, having located her quarry. She removed a faded, soft towel from the shelf, surveying the rest of the content of the closet.

Her interest piqued at a small-ish cardboard box under the bottom shelf marked simply ‘Walt's stuff’. Dropping the towel, she pulled the box out, dusted off the top and ripped the packing tape off to get it open. Felicia would have defined the contents as ‘damning evidence of her father's criminal activity’ if she'd been the one labelling boxes. Inside were journals of notes, sketches of blueprints, lists of contacts and either broken or outdated gear of the lock-picking, night-vision, heisting, breaking-and-entering variety.

She flipped through one of the journals. It was practically a  _textbook_ in terms of the wealth and richness of the information inscribed within. All in her father's familiar neat handwriting. How the police didn't have this, Felicia had no idea.

But she wasn't disappointed that they didn’t.

Draping the towel over the opened lid, Felicia smuggled the box back to her bedroom, shoving it under her bed for later inspection.

“Come look, kitten,” Mrs Hardy called out through the apartment, voice carrying clearly down the corridor, “that ‘Spider-Man’ character is on the news again!”

“I don't care about Spider-Man!” Felicia shouted back, shutting the bathroom door with a slam, mind already overrun with the possibilities ensconced in that little cardboard box.

-

“Felicia!”

She turned to face the voice calling her name only to witness her ex-boyfriend, Flash bounding her way down the corridor. Ex-boyfriend was a strong term for the two months they’d spent necking after basketball games, his hands desperately trying to get under any article of clothing they could.

Flash Thompson was the mutant offspring of a brutish puppy and a dumb jock and the captain of the boys’ basketball team. At seventeen he was a year older and a head and a half taller than Felicia. Felicia had discovered early on in their relationship that a nasty home life had twisted his otherwise sweet nature into a rough bully and vicious player on the court.

He pulled Felicia into a one-armed hug. “How are you doing, babe?”

Felicia tried to smile, knowing this was supposed to comforting, but mostly just wishing he’d stop touching her. “I’m still here,” she replied, not entirely sure what her answer meant.

Flash gave her a sad smile and rubbed his hand up and down her arm.  _Still not comforting_ , she thought unkindly.

“That’s good, that’s good,” he said, quickly tacking on: “coming to practice?”

Felicia nodded, gesturing to the cheerleading uniform she had on under her open hoodie.

“Great!” he grinned, “cos the other girls can’t get a rise outta the boys like you do!”

He winked; nudging her slightly to make sure she got the full implication of his words. Felicia forced a wider smile, feeling sick to her stomach, but allowed him to lead her all the way to the gymnasium where he let her go to regroup with the other cheerleaders.  

After a round of hugs from the group of sympathetic simpering girls, determined to smother her in push-up bras and cheap celebrity brand perfumes, Felicia excused herself to sit on the bench and watch the routine the team had been working on while she’d been on leave.

_The worst thing about it all_ , Felicia mentally decided,  _was that everyone knew._

Her attention drifted, and she found herself watching Flash boss around his posse of thick-set and thicker-headed basket-ballers. It had been natural order for the alpha jock to date a pretty cheerleader, but after weeks of him slobbering over all her exposed skin and her feeling nothing she’d broken it off with him one lunch in the cafeteria. He definitely hadn’t been too heartbroken to start dating fellow cheerleader Liz Allen shortly after.

Felicia wished them the best.

Just as the thought crossed her mind, Felicia’s eyes were drawn Mary Jane entering the other side of the gymnasium. She remembered the scared look on the girl’s face from the other morning.  _Something happened there._ It weighed on Felicia’s mind even as she reminded herself not to stick her nose where it definitely didn’t belong.

“Well, look who it is,” Flash called obnoxiously, holding his arms out open to her in a fake gesture of welcome. “The newly elected captain of the  _women’s_ basketball team.”

_So the basketball-to-the-face thing did have some validity to it,_ Felicia noted, feeling guilty for doubting the other girl. Flash’s attempt at an insult was followed by titters of laughter, some from the cheerleaders and Felicia glared around at them.

“Shut it, Flash,” Mary Jane growled out, clearly not in the mood. Flash sneered and savagely pegged at the basketball in his hands at her. Felicia stood suddenly, ready to scold Flash and help the redhead, but Mary Jane caught it full-on without so much as batting her eyes.

“I hope you know what to do with that,” Flash goaded, obviously not intimidated by her catch.

“How about I show you?” Mary Jane challenged, smiling and slowly bouncing the ball on the spot. “One-on-one. Just you and me,  _babe._ ”

Felicia felt a cold trickle run down her spin at the malicious way Mary Jane used his favourite endearment and Flash scowled into response.

“Not worth my time,” he dismissed her.

“No? Not even to come get your ball back? Here I’ll make it easier,” she dribbled the ball down the court to a third of the way to the hoop the men’s basketball team were practising at. “Come on, Flash, you just have to take it back.”

He reached for the outstretched ball, but Mary Jane moved too quickly, switching the ball to the other hand. He made another lunge and she bounced it under his arms to catch again when he stumbled.

With a roar, Flash came for her with both arms, but Mary Jane stepped back and crouching, launched herself into the air. Her knees came level with Flash’s shoulders when she shot the ball, landing neatly in a crouch again as the ball still sailed across the court. It fell through the hoop with a quiet swish and deafening boom as it crashed into the gymnasium floor.

“That’s not possible,” someone whispered near her before the whole gym broke out in chaos and cheers.

_No_ , Felicia thought,  _it’s not_ . Stepping into the crowd, she realised Mary Jane had already made a speedy escape. Something  _had_ happened.

-

Felicia flicked through blank channel after channel, slouched sideways across the couch. She was replaying the scene in the gymnasium over and over again, eyes as glazed over as the glass of the television set.

"Sorry, Leesha," her mother said, passing the couch and brushing her fingers through Felicia's white-blonde hair. "I had to cancel the cable. Just for now."

Knowing a sigh would just serve to make her mother feel more guilty, Felicia switched off the TV. "That's okay. I'll just read a book." She knew exactly which book as well, and it certainly wasn’t  _Frankenstein_ .

Mrs Hardy smiled at her daughter who rolled gracefully over the arm of the couch and landed on her feet.

"Glad to see years of gymnastics classes finally paid off," she commented wryly. Felicia grinned at her in response and found the expression came easily to her face, for once. She cartwheeled down the corridor to her bedroom showing off for her mother’s laughter.

"When do you want tea?" Mrs Hardy called. Felicia liked it when their conversations happened in cross-apartment yelling; it made their home feel a little less empty.

"I'm not hungry," Felicia responded, shutting her door behind her. She bounded onto the bed pushed right up against the window. The sill, she'd found, was big enough for her sit across it, back against one wooden edge, knees pressed to the other end. This was where she set herself up know, having retrieved volume three of her father's seemingly endless journals.

Reading his words made him seem somehow closer and further away at the same time.

The entry she opened to was on the subject of concealing one's identity. She yawned, not from lack of interest, but sleep which had been elusive the last few nights. Felicia somehow drifted to sleep, scrunched uncomfortably against the window pane. She woke, with a crick in her neck, at dusk, just in time to see Spider-Man swing past her window.

With a gasp, Felicia pressed her face against the glass to watch the figure down the street. She was suddenly awake.

 _That was the way to do it_ , a small voice said in the back of her mind. _You didn't have to be invisible to be an unknown_.

Felicia unfolded from her spot, leg cramping and numb, and scrambled to her desk. Mind on fire with creativity, she located a blank page of a notebook and started scribbling designs all over it. She felt like, having awoken from a dream, she’d brought something through with her and now it was pouring itself onto the page. Settling on one, she stepped back to admire her handiwork. _Yes, this would be it_. And thanks to her father, she knew exactly who to go for all the extras she'd need.

 _But what_ , her conscience finally kicked in, _would she being doing with this outfit, exactly?_

"What my family needs me to do," Felicia replied out loud, looking up at her reflection, excited by the spark burning in her eyes. ‘ _Just for a little while’_ , she decided, _could come a little_ _sooner_.

-

Felicia knocked on the storeroom door, pushing it slightly when it opened under the force of her fist. “Mr Mason?”

“If you’re here on official business, you better call me Mr Tinkerer.”

Felicia peered into the half-light of the room, unable to make out the owner of the voice. For the first time since she set off on this venture, only yesterday, she felt nervous. “Um, Mr Tinkerer?”

The voice within sighed. “Since you already know I’m here you better come in.”

The backroom lit up as Felicia took one last glance over her shoulder at the antiques shop she’d come through and slipped into the backroom, closing the door behind her. A slightly stooped, elderly man was seated on a stool behind a steel work desk, bent over an electronic device that looked like the cross between a boomerang and a circular saw. He peered up at her then snorted.

“You’re Walt Hardy’s little girl.”

Felicia went stock still, shocked into silence. Despite knowing the source of her information, she hadn’t considered the Tinkerer recognising her as a possibly. Then, recovering slowly she nodded. “You know my dad?”

The Tinkerer leant back over his work, picking up a minuscule screwdriver and jamming it into the gadget. “He was a good man. Always had a smile on his face. And good at what he did.”

“He’s not dead,” Felicia bristled. She had struggled with that mentality enough that to hear it from someone else caused a spike in her temper.

“Of course,” the Tinkerer replied, not blinking at her outburst, “but a man like that doesn’t come back to the business. No, Walter is a straight man now.”

He looked up at her now, evaluating through the thick lenses perched on his nose. “You on the other hand,” he trailed off and shot out a hand towards her, “show me what you want.”

Felicia pulled the folded piece of paper with her specifications from her pocket and handed it over. The Tinkerer unfolded it, glanced at the sheet and then put it down, open, on the tabletop and returned to his tinkering. “Going into the family business, then?”

“Yes,” she forced out, determined to be confident, especially now.

“Does your mother know?”

“No." 

The Tinkerer chuckled. “Walter was terrible at keeping things from Lydia. He’d have a secret one day and the moment she looked at him, whoosh, he was spilling his guts to her.” He paused. “But I suppose teenage girls are made to keep secrets from their moms.”

Felicia didn’t respond, overwhelmed by just how well this stranger seemed to know her family and folded her arms over her chest, twisting her lips into a hard line.

“You can afford two things on this list, at best,” the Tinkerer said casually. Felicia opened her mouth to argue, but he raised his hand. Tugging off the glasses and placing down his tools, the old man leant forward on his elbows across the table to look at her. “However, I’m willing to make a deal. I’ll lend out every item you’ve gotten written down here and the five things you’ll really need that you’ve forgotten. I will also provide you with the necessary expertise on how to  _not_ get caught in the first five minutes of your burglary career. In exchange, you will supply me with a decent cut of your earnings each week until the debt is paid off or our contract ends in one of the obvious ways.”

He continued to watch her as she thought it over, her mind turning it all over quickly so as not to make it seem like she was unsure. “Deal,” she said at last. The Tinkerer snorted as if the outcome was obvious and reached out a hand over the counter.

As they shook on it, he asked, “how should I address you?”

Felicia smiled. “Call me Black Cat.”

-

Felicia made $10, 000 in her first fortnight of being a teenage criminal. She hesitated the first night, but then she thought ‘for mom’ and found she had no qualms then about scooping the precious diamonds their case and secreting them out. Another time, listening device pressed to a vault door, fingers creeping around the dial, she thought ‘for dad’ just as the lock came open under her fingers.

Once, squeezed halfway down a complicated maze of vents, overcome with her actions and the tight space, Felicia thought ‘for MJ’ and managed to keep wiggling. She chose not to over-analyse that one.

The Tinkerer took $2, 000 for his services and another $1, 000 for further equipment and supplies, leaving Felicia with $6, 000 that she somehow had to get into her mother’s bank account without her becoming suspicious. In the end, she told Mrs Hardy she’d taken on a part-time job working in, what was admittedly a front, “Mr Mason’s” antique store. After assurances that, yes, Felicia would be able to balance it with school and that, yes, she really did want to contribute the household, Mrs Hardy relented.

“I really wish you’d told me you were planning this,” she sighed, chopping tomatoes. Felicia smiled and felt guiltier about lying to her mother’s face than breaking the seal around her window in order to sneak out in the middle of the night or any of the activities that took place after that.

In the end, Felicia deposited $200 a week into the family bank account in order not to make her mother suspicious and stashed the rest in the cardboard box of her father’s stuff under the bed.

-

“Are we keeping you up, Miss Hardy?” the teacher asked after Felicia’s third yawn in about as many minutes. Felicia blushed and shook her head. “Then would you mind reading from stanza twenty-five.”

Felicia looked down at the book of poetry in front of her and quickly skimmed the page. She cleared her throat. “‘I seek an outlaw,’ quoth Sir Guye, ‘Men call him Robin Hood; I had rather meet with him upon a day then forty pound of gold.’”

She looked up but the teacher made a carry-on gesture. “‘If you two met, it would be seen whether were better afore ye did part away; Let us some other pastime find, good fellow, I thee pray. Let us some other masteries make, and we will walk in the woods  _euen_ ; we may chance meet with Robin Hood at some  _unsett steven_ .’”

“Thank you Miss Hardy,” the teacher stopped her. “The irony in this conversation is, of course, that Sir Guy is already speaking to Robin Hood though neither he nor the audience know that yet. Mr Parker, if you’ll continue.”

While the next student spoke, Felicia couldn’t help smiling down at her work to herself. She could appreciate irony of Guy not knowing he was talking to the prolific thief.

When she looked up again, it was straight into the eyes of Mary Jane who had twisted in her seat to look at her. The redhead frowned, having met her gaze and returned to writing something furiously in her book. For a second it seemed like Mary Jane was going to tear the page out and pass her a note, but then she scrunched the paper into a ball and pressed it into her pocket.

-

“Try these on,” the Tinkerer said, hurling a pair of boots over the counter. Felicia caught them just before they collided with her face and toed her sneakers off. She pulled the black boots on, zipping up the sides. Coming up to mid-calf they blended in perfectly with the leather leggings. Felicia stood up, pulling on the black hoodie that mostly made up the look. It was form-fitting, with long sleeves and white fur around the edge of the hood. Two cats’ ears appeared when she pulled the hood up, standing straight due to the communication equipment in them that linked down to her own ears.

“They have heels,” Felicia griped. The Tinkerer snorted with derision. As usual he was folded over something on his desk.

“Ungrateful brat,” he said. “They have strong magnets in them that’ll help you maintain balance  _and_ aid you in climbing.”

Felicia shook her shoe. It didn’t feel any heavier or special and if anything she felt more  _un_ balanced. But she didn’t comment as she did feel taller and, though she really wouldn’t admit to anyone, sexier.

“Why are you helping me?” she asked suddenly after they lapsed into a minute of silence. “Is it because of my father?” Felicia tugged uncertainly at the strings on her hoodie. The Tinkerer stopped what he was doing and looked up at her, pursing his lips like he was trying to properly formulate his thoughts.

“Legacy will only get you so far, Cat,” he said, coolly, “I am helping you because you have potential and are therefore a very interesting  _investment_ to me.”

Felicia looked down and smiled. Despite his tough words, she found herself wanting to believe there was in fact some sentiment behind his statement.

“Come here and try these on.”

She crossed the room, stepping over a box of small metallic disks and held out her hands. Her pair of black gloves fell into them, apparently retrofitted. She noted the rough, almost sticky texture on the pads of the fingers and on the palms. The tips of each finger had been fitted with carbon-fibre claws. Under the material of the palm was triggering mechanism linked to a hook hidden in the white fur at the end. Felicia looked at the Tinkerer in askance.

“Grappling hooks,” he mimed using either hand to swing about the room, “tricky to get the hang of, but fast and efficient and increasingly popular.”

Felicia slid the gloves over her hands, wriggling her fingers right down into the tight fit and pressed her middle to fingers into the trigger. She hesitated on firing it indoors though. “This is what Spider-Man uses?”

The Tinkerer laughed; a drawn-out rasping sound that instantly made her feel like an idiot. “Spider- _Woman_ uses a bio-organic material possibly of her own design or completely internal production, but essentially it’s the same mechanism.”

Felicia looked up at her patron so fast she thought she heard her neck crack. “That’s a  _lady_ ?”

He rolled his eyes at her. “You are either an inobservant dolt or carelessly not paying attention to the opposition you might face on the street.”

Felicia shrugged, her cheeks heating up.

With a sigh, he handed over her black neoprene domino mask which she fitted across her face quickly to avoid looking at him.

"Stop reading the _Bugle_ and do some serious research on Spider-Woman,” he ordered and finished up with his usual remarks, “don’t get cocky and don’t get caught.”

Felicia pulled her hood over her head, tucking her hair to hide down the back of it and ducked out the Tinkerer’s back door.

-

Felicia loved the last part of her night the most. She sat, high on the fire-stairs of her apartment building; a short drop to her bedroom window. Her hood was down and the light breeze tugged at her hair and the fur on her costume. It was almost four in the morning. In a few minutes, she would crawl through that window as silently as possibly, change into her pyjamas and slip into bed for a solid four hours sleep before waking up and starting her day over.

She would take tomorrow night off and spend the time with her mother. They would sit in front of the couch and Felicia would do her homework while her mother watched sitcoms on mute and fell asleep in the middle of reading books. The night after that, Felicia would go to the library after school, studying hard for a few hours then return home, pretending she’d been at work. After eating dinner, she’d retire to her room and sneak out to really go to work.

Felicia yawned, her jaw creaking with the effort of it, her body pleasantly aching. The city was mostly quiet at this time and despite it all, she felt peaceful. She wondered, stupidly and cockily, how things could ever go wrong.

-

Felicia didn’t see Mary Jane in English Lit that week. She wasn’t sure why noticed, or further more why she cared, but they didn’t share any other classes together and that was Felicia’s only way of knowing that the other girl still even existed.

She saw her once at the other end of the corridor, walking away. Mary Jane carried herself differently, as if moving was easier, her whole body graceful and efficient. She ducked and weaved with purpose, unnoticed by the student population around her.

Yet, Felicia could sense from here, the weight balanced precariously on Mary Jane’s shoulder. An invisible darkness that kept her head bowed and her neck and back tense.

They hadn’t spoken since Mary Jane had said  _Something happened there_ and as far as Felicia could remember she hadn’t really spoken to her for years before that since the start of high school when they’d briefly been friends. That friendship had fallen apart when Gwen Stacy had asked Mary Jane to join her elite group of friends and Felicia made it into the cheer squad as a junior member.

Two conversations in as many years and yet Felicia couldn’t tear her eyes away even as Mary Jane turned the corner and disappeared. Irrationally, Felicia wanted to grab her and tell her everything, absolutely everything and demand Mary Jane do the same.

She scowled, angry at herself, and walked the opposite direction.

-

_Everything had gone to shit really fast_ , Felicia thought, oddly calm as she scrambled across a roof, tiles sliding under her feet. In the sky, lightning sprayed across the dark background and Felicia ducked, thinking of the police helicopters only a few blocks behind her.

_Fuck these heels_ , she wanted to scream.  _Fuck the Tinkerer and fuck the whole damn plan from the start._

She accelerated to the edge of one building and leapt the alley, bracing herself to land with a roll. Still unpractised with the grappling hooks, jumping rooves was still currently her best get away plan. Landing with a wince, Felicia skipped across the smooth roof, diving for a stairwell. She pressed herself against the locked door, catching her breath and rolling her bruised shoulder.

Felicia considered her options. She could get the door open, hid inside until it seemed like the danger had mostly passed. Or she could continue making a break for it, hit ground floor somewhere and try and make it to a change of clothes or home altogether.

Then she noticed Spider-Woman on the roof opposite. Felicia’s heart stopped even as her body tensed in preparation to run. She’d done her research. Spider-Woman was fast, and strong, and if Felicia didn’t get a head-start she’d be webbed up as a sweet little gift for the NYPD in no time. Moments passed as the two of them just seemed to watch each other. Felicia wished she could see through the eyepieces in the superhero’s mask to get a feel for what the other woman was thinking, but the blank white eyes gleamed back at her.

Spider-Woman raised a hand, slowly, unthreateningly, but Felicia took off, sprinting the side towards the road. With a leap of faith, she jumped from the building, momentarily free-falling before activating a grappling hook. It caught on a lamppost catching her fall and on the upward swing, she shot the other one, claws digging into the opposite building, propelling her upwards again.

She hit the other roof, knee scraping along the edge and she hauled herself over. Behind her, there was a strange thwip noise as Spider-Woman crossed the buildings ( _far more gracefully_ , Felicia noted with jealousy) and Felicia ran for the opposite end of the roof. She stopped at the edge when Spider-Woman called out.

“Wait!”

Felicia half-turned, watching the superhero cautiously. At this distance, she could probably dodge any webbing Spider-Woman sent her way, but apart from  _down_ her escape options were limited. At least the street below was deserted.

“Hold up just a second,” Spider-Woman sounded oddly desperate to Felicia’s ears and almost familiar. Something in Felicia’s stomach wrenched and it wasn’t just from the adrenaline. “I just want to know who you are.”

Felicia shot her cruel smile over her shoulder. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

And then she jumped over the edge. The canvas overhang of a shop front caught her and without hesitating to consider any injuries, Felicia flipped over and under the canvas, pulling her body up close to the underneath of the overhang. She pressed her feet hard to the wall, pleased when they didn’t slip and spread her arms against the canvas frame to hold herself there.

Felicia focused on slowing her breathing and willing herself to stay silent and unmoving. Where she was as long as she didn’t make a noise or move she should have been perfectly hidden inside the canvas frame.

There was a soft thump as Spider-Woman landed on the overhang next to her. Felicia closed her eyes, arms trembling slightly from the exertion and prayed that Spider-Woman would just move on.

“What the hell,” Spider-Woman’s voice filtered softly through the quiet night. “Where did she go?”

Felicia waited as long as she could after she was sure Spider-Woman had moved on before dropping down. She bit down on a shout as she landed on her cramping leg. Swiftly, she pulled the hoodie off and turned it inside out so all the fur was hidden and then tucked the whole hood inside the back of the jersey. Felicia tugged the domino mask off and shoved it, as well her removed gloves, into a deep pocket.

Brushing her hair out and around her face, Felicia took a deep breath and jogged home along at dark streets.

-

Gwen Stacy was the only daughter of Captain George Stacy (well-known NYPD detective), class president, working a much-sought-after internship at Oscorp and most importantly, the most popular girl in school. Her friendly, easy-going nature set her apart from the fog of gossip and bitchiness that surrounded the cheerleaders. Felicia never really considered her a friend, but they were amicable in all conversations.

Still, it was a surprise when Gwen slid into the seat next to Felicia’s during biology. Not an unpleasant surprise, as Felicia was still struggling to catch up with her worst subject that just so happened to be Gwen’s best subject.

Gwen, in another pleasant revelation, was more than happy to read over Felicia’s report in the minutes before class started.

“By the way,” Gwen said almost conspiratorially, “did you hear about that theft last night?”

Felicia looked up, shocked, but nothing about Gwen’s face or casual demeanour indicated she thought there was any connection between Felicia and the break-in. She nodded, trying to maintain a straight, but curious face.

“Well,” Gwen’s voice dropped another decibel, “the police saw a figure leaving the crime scene and then saw Spider-Man not that far from the area.”

“Spider-Woman,” Felicia corrected automatically. Gwen raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

“I’m impressed. Not many civilians know that. The NYPD have been feeding the media false information since her appearance.” She looked at Felicia expectantly, who shrugged.

“I saw her,” she said confidently, safe that it wasn’t entirely incorrect. Felicia  _had_ seen her from the window and also while evading the cops in heist currently under discussion. “So, do they think Spider-Woman was responsible?”

Gwen shook her head but shrugged at the same time. “My father isn’t convinced. Also, they found  _cat hair_ at the scene, so unless Spider-Woman is secretly a crazy old cat lady.”

Gwen giggled and Felicia smiled. “Thanks, and for the notes,” Felicia tapped her pen against the notebook as their teacher made an entrance and class began.

-

“What was last night all about?” the Tinkerer exploded as Felicia pulled the door shut behind her with a wince. He slapped a  _Daily Bugle_ on the steel worktable, open to the burglary report on page two. Attached to the short report was a fuzzy CCTV camera image of a silhouette. Felicia knew it was her, but the picture was blurry enough that you couldn’t make out the ears of the hoodie. Having met Spider-Woman, she guessed that the figure could just have easily been her.

“I know, I know,” Felicia sighed, slumping into a chair. “I fucked up.”

“Damn right you did! This is not a good position to be in. Tell me you at least didn’t lose it in the cross-city rooftop chase.” He glowered at her.

Felicia reached into her pocket, fished out the little box and tossed it lightly to the old man, who caught it. He nodded with satisfaction, inspecting the contents, before dropping it into a drawer at the desk and placing a roll of notes on the counter. Felicia scooped it up and weighing the money in her hand, frowned.

“Dude, are you penalising me for last night?”

“I am not your ‘dude’, and yes. You risked  _our_ investment last night and thus,  _my_ whole operation. I have taken a small fine.”

Felicia scowled, but said nothing, tucking the cash into the back of her pants.

“Furthermore,” the Tinkerer continued, clearly not done with his lecture nor sick of the sound of his own voice, “the  _community_ ,” he enunciated clearly, indicating the underground network of villains operating in New York City, “has suspected the presence of a newcomer on the scene. If I was you, I’d want to keep my head even further down now, if I wanted to keep it.”

He finished this sermon with this threat, and then gave her a look like she was expected to have something to add.

“I ran into Spider-Woman,” she blurted out.

The Tinkerer pursed his lips. “And?”

“And I avoided an altercation, but,” Felicia paused, processing her run-in with the would-be superhero again, “she’s fast. And springy.”

“Springy?”

“You know, agile.”

The Tinkerer gave me a long appraising look before sighing. “You’re just lucky it wasn’t an Avenger.”

Felicia paled, having not even considered the possibility. Of course there were other heroes of the city, but she’d been so preoccupied with thoughts of Spider-Woman, they’d barely even blipped on her radar. She flushed, suddenly embarrassed and unsure why.

“I know you won’t take any weapons,” the Tinkerer was still talking, rummaging in a box in one of the many cabinets of the room, “but I’m going to give you some flashbangs. If you meet Spider-Woman again, you may be able to disable her long enough to make a getaway.”

Felicia took the small metallic balls and juggled all five of them in the air before safely tucking them in her pocket. Which reminded her.

“I have a contact that told me that the police found cat hair at the museum,” Felicia said and tugged on the fur fringe her hood. “ _Is this real?_ ”

The Tinkerer smiled thinly, without answering her question. “Not anymore.” He gestured for her to remove the hoodie. “I’ll replace it with a synthetic alternative. And find a way to stop it falling out. 

Felicia struggled out of the hoodie, hissing, and threw it down on the workbench. “Gross! You let me wear cat fur!”

“It was the aesthetic,” the Tinkerer chuckled, pulling out a sewing kit. “Go home, Cat, you’re grounded tonight. 

-

It was a rainy Wednesday night when Black Cat finally had her chance to prowl again. Felicia was sulking because what had started out in the early evening as a light drizzle morphed into a torrential downpour. Her heist was held up mostly because she didn’t want to break in anywhere and end up trailing water after her.

She slouched with a sigh under an overhang partially out of the rain and pulled her hood even closer around her face. It didn’t help that she was pretty sure a stone gargoyle was sitting above her.  _Weird old buildings_ , Felicia grouched.

Thirty minutes passed without the weather letting up and Felicia decided to call it a night and brave the rain home.

The rain made almost all of her jumps that much more dangerous and she noticed a definite slip of some of her landings. She weighed up her options and figured she’d be better off with swinging with the grappling hooks.

Once, she heard sirens and changed her course. Besides, with the clouds, it was almost certainly too dark to make her out against the clouds.

Felicia landed on a roof with a soft thump and tentatively rolled her shoulder. This swinging business was a lot harder than it looked. She had just spared a thought for how Spider-Woman did it when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“Hey!”

_Think of the devil_ , Felicia thought angrily, and without turning, dashed for the edge of the building.

“Wait!” Spider-Woman called, accompanied by a  _thwip_ sound. Felicia felt a pressure on her back and then was falling backwards, landing on the gravelled roof with an ‘oof’.

Felicia flipped up, snagging the webbing off her back and brought her hands up in a defensive fighting position. Spider-Woman on the other hand had raised both her arms to indicate surrender.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Spider-Woman insisted. Felicia made a show of wiping the rain from her face while she retrieved a flashbang concealed inside her sleeve.

“No, you just want to arrest me,” Felicia snapped back.

Spider-Woman tilted her head to the side and seemed to be smiling. “I left my badge and cuffs at home tonight, honest.” She chuckled.

“Don’t laugh at your own jokes,” Felicia scowled, hurling the flashbang at Spider-Woman’s feet, “and piss off!”

The flashbang exploded, Felicia’s eyes shielded by the lens in her mask, but Spider-Woman’s clearly not. She stumbled back but not before calling out.

“Felicia?!" 

Felicia stopped in her sprint, spinning on her heel. She grabbed Spider-Woman by the front of her costume, clearly catching her off-guard and slammed her against the wall of the roof access stairwell. The pouring rain had them both slipping on the slick gravel.

“How do you know my name?” Felicia snarled in Spider-Woman’s face _. Fuck_ , she thought belatedly,  _should have just made a run for it anyway. Now she knows it’s true._ But something in the uncertainty and wonder in Spider-Woman’s voice had made her stop. And if somehow her identity had already become Spider-Woman’s knowledge she would have to do something.  _Something drastic_ , Felicia thought with a sickening feeling that wasn’t just the rain soaking through her hoodie.

“Felicia,” Spider-Woman gasped out and Felicia realised she was pressing against the other woman’s windpipe too hard. “It’s me.”

Spider-Woman brought one gloved hand up, her other curling around Felicia’s bicep with no real strength, and slid her hand under the edge of the mask.

“It’s me,” she breathed again, pulling the mask off her face and off her head entirely. It kept its shape like a helmet and Spider-Woman dropped it to the ground with a hollow clunk. Wet red hair fell around the superhero’s shoulders and Felicia realised she was staring in to the face of Mary Jane Watson.

-

Mary Jane sat on one towel, with another around her shoulders, against the wall on the floor in Felicia’s room, wet hair dripping onto her knees where they were pressed up against her chest.

Felicia towelled off her own hair, having changed out of her wet clothes and sat down next to her, but with a considerable gap between them. They both stared at the opposite wall.

“So,” Felicia said finally, “something happened at Oscorp, huh?”

“Yeah,” Mary Jane said ducking her head with something of a smile. “They had these, um, spiders. It was an experiment. When one bit me I guess I became part of that experiment too.”

“And you can do… what exactly?” Felicia followed up weakly. Mary Jane dragged a hand through the mess of her hair and swallowed.

“Well, I can climb pretty well because I seem to stick to pretty much any surface. And I’m strong, and fast, and bouncy.” 

“Springy,” Felicia interrupted to confirm.

“That. And I have uh, a sense. It’s like a warning system when I’m about to come to harm.”

“Do you see dead people too?” Felicia said wryly. Mary Jane smiled and reached out to push Felicia’s shoulder, wobbling the other girl on her spot.

“ _No_ , but,” she pushed the sleeves of the Spider-Woman costume up and revealed to Felicia the inside of her wrist. There was a raised oblong lump down the centre about an inch long. Without asking for permission, Felicia ran her fingers along it, inhaling sharply at the peculiar firm, but soft texture. “That’s how I make the webbing stuff. I have no idea what produces it inside me. Actually, that sounds pretty gross when I say it out loud.”

Mary Jane made an uncomfortable face and pulled her sleeve back down, extricating her arm from Felicia.

“And the newfound heroism?” Felicia asked. She didn’t mean for it to come out so bitingly, but Mary Jane froze, visibly tensing in the space between them. “You don’t have to talk about it,” Felicia said quickly. Mary Jane shook her head.

“I scared away my Dad,” Mary Jane said quietly. Silence seemed to swallow the whole room save for the space around the redhead’s mouth where the words threatened to drown them both. “He was… never good to Mom. Not nice to Gayle and I. And physical he’d been drinking.” Mary Jane squeezed herself into a tighter ball, chin pressing into the dip between her two knees.

“Just after I got, yaknow, bit and  _weird_ things started happening to me, he hit Gayle. He knew he’d fucked up,  _oh sorry_ , and ran off. I think I acted in a trance. I found this  _stupid_ old Mexican wrestling costume from some Halloween years ago and put on Gayle’s old lacrosse gear underneath it. I looked bulky, like a guy that could take on my dad. And I tracked him down. He was drunk, just wandering the streets. I didn’t even hit him he just fell down and started  _sobbing._ ”

Mary Jane’s face was contorted with some mixture of pain and anger that resonated deeply with Felicia. She was starting to feel sick again, like the ice cold fingers of the rain had wrapped tendrils around her bones.

“He was pathetic. And I thought  _I could really hurt him_ . I could really take it all out on him. I was so much more powerful than he would ever be and then I realised. I was supposed to be out here using that power to help people, protect my family, not hurt them. Not hurt anyone.” She drew a deep shaking breath. “I told him to stay away from the Watsons. And he did. And when Mom realised he wasn’t coming home again, she  _cried_ . How could she _cry_ ?”

Mary Jane burst into quiet hiccuping sobs and without thinking, they moved towards each other, Felicia pulling the other girl close to her chest. Mary Jane pushed her face into the juncture of Felicia’s neck and shoulder and heaved, fingers curling in the fabric of Felicia’s shirt.

Felicia remembered Mary Jane’s face as she said ‘it’s been dealt with’ with a sort of dark pride for Mary Jane. It then occurred to her that she was probably the only person who had heard this story and it had inextricably linked both the two girls and their costumed personas. Despite it all, or maybe because of it, Felicia wanted to laugh; Spider-Woman was sitting wetly in her bedroom crying in her arms.

Mary Jane’s breathing evened out and Felicia brought her hand up to stroke down the red tangles of her hair. “I’m so sorry, MJ,” Felicia muttered against her forehead, “and I don’t know how, but it’ll be okay. It’ll be okay.”

They stayed like that for another fifteen minutes before Mary Jane gently pulled away and they disentangled. Felicia shivered at the sudden loss of body heat.

“I should get going,” Mary Jane muttered, folding up the towel on her shoulders and gathering her gloves and mask. Felicia gestured around the room to invite her to stay but the words didn’t quite make it out her mouth. Mary Jane smiled wanly.

“Gayle and Mom will worry if I’m not there in the morning.”

Mary Jane perched on the window sill, pulling her gloves on, steady in her actions despite her tear-stained face. Desperately wanting to cross the bed to her, Felicia rooted her feet to the ground.  _No_ , she thought,  _this is not MJ, this is Spider-Woman._

“It’s a helmet,” Felicia said stupidly, trying to fill the strange awkward chasm that had opened between them now. Mary Jane nodded.

“Repurposed lacrosse helmet,” she knocked on the reinforced surface, “hides the hair and protects my head in case I fall.”

With that she put on the mask and Spider-Woman pushed open the window, disappearing into the night with a final “see you around”.

_Don’t fall_ , Felicia opened her mouth to call out but only the soft exhalation of breath came out.  _Too late_ , she thought, wishing she could take her own advice.

-

Of course, Felicia hadn’t realised that ‘see you around’ in fact meant ‘see you tomorrow’.

“Why aren’t you sitting with the cheerleaders?” Mary Jane said as she dropped her tray opposite Felicia’s but hesitated to sit down. Around them the cafeteria buzzed with activity and the loud hum of teenage voices.

“Dude, you can’t sit with me,” Felicia blurted out, almost choking on her mouthful of apple. Mary Jane smiled and deliberately sat down, working on opening the packaging of her sandwich. In the light of day, she looked remarkably well put together compared to what Felicia had witnessed the night before.

“I’m not a dude. Also, why not?”

“What happened last night does not make us  _friends_ ,” Felicia hissed back and then blushed suddenly at the implication of her words. Mary Jane grinned, though her cheeks had also suddenly rushed with pink.

“Keep it down, Hardy, lest you taint your straight reputation,” Mary Jane wiggled her eyebrows and Felicia scowled.

“Better that than the truth. For the  _both_ of us, wouldn’t you think?” she questioned between gritted teeth. Mary Jane looked at her with a flash of eyes.

“Maybe they’re  _both_ the truth,” she responded, voice dropping an octave seductively. Felicia’s heart stopped in her chest. She was sure she was blushing to her hairline. It was a struggle to swallow.

“Is it because Liz Allen and Flash Thompson are attached at the lips?” Mary Jane picked up the conversation she’d originally tried to start in Felicia’s pause. “I’ll admit myself, he’s not even my exboyfriend, but it’s a little off-putting.”

“I don’t care about Flash and Liz,” Felicia said sullenly, realising she’d lost and resumed eating her apple. Mary Jane raised an eyebrow, waiting for a full response. Felicia sighed.

“They just don’t get it. I don’t care about cheerleading anymore. I don’t care about boys. I’m not interested who’s wearing what to prom and taking who or for fucks sake, getting a stupid plastic crown. I don’t understand them and they don’t understand me.”

She exhaled, having felt the last month of tension at her school life drain away.

“I understand you,” Mary Jane said flippantly, swallowing her big bite of sandwich, “you should have lunch with me.”

Felicia rolled her eyes,  _like I have a choice_ .

-

She could have just dropped it off, she knew, but something had made her stay. It was her afternoon off, and on her way home from the library, she’d made a detour through the evening drizzle. The envelope of money had been stuffed in the bottom of her bag all day, burning into her back at school, the kind of secret she wanted desperately to share with someone.

She’d stuck the envelope through the flap in the door, smiling as she thought about it falling on top of a pile of bills and invoices. Now, with the hood pulled up over her head, none of her other gear on, Felicia waited under umbrella across the road. Just to see what would happen.

When the homeless shelter opened at six pm on the dot, Felicia watched with nervous anticipation as the staff opened their mail. She couldn’t help smiling at their confusion and delight at the surprise donation. Her heart felt like it was trying to break all her ribs and escape. This was better than karmic justice; this was the feeling of doing something  _right_ .

She had left a card along with the $3000 cash signed, simply and elegantly (she’d practiced several times before),  _Black Cat_ in the envelope. Next week she’d be able to do this again, for some other struggling charity. She had a list and when she’d crossed off every organisation that existed entirely on donations, she’d loop back around and start all over again.

As the first of their visitors arrived for the night, the staff member who had picked up the donation in the first place, looked across the road at her, smiled and raised a hand.

Felicia paused, then raised her hand back.

-

“Okay, seriously,” Felicia said, turning away from the complicated lock system on the vault, placing her hands on her hips to face Spider-Woman creeping in the shadows behind her, “how are you here? Are you  _stalking_ me?”

“What? No! You left the door open on the way in and I,” Spider-Woman waved her hands around quickly as she tried to explain herself. Felicia scowled.

“Just leave.”

She turned back to the safe, pressed her earpiece against the metal door and closing her eyes to focus on the creaking of the shifting gears inside.

“This is one of the Kingpin’s legal offices, isn’t it?”

Felicia sighed. “Yes.”

Spider-Woman whistled lowly, distracting Felicia enough that she turned around to curse out the superhero to her face (well, mask), only to have Spider-Woman waggling her fingers in her. “You’re practically a  _vigilante_ , now.”

Felicia ignored the comment, “what are you doing with your hands?”

“Spirit fingers!” The finger-waggling intensified, with the addition of some bizarre dance move. Felicia stared at the other woman, dead pan.

“What?”

Spider-Woman stopped suddenly, making an anguished noise. “You’ve never seen  _Bring it On_ ?”

Felicia shrugged, “nope”, and turned back to her work.

“But you’re a cheerleader,” Spider-Woman gasped, “It’s the  _greatest_ cheerleading movie ever made – ignoring the four straight-to-videos sequels – excluding  _But I’m a Cheerleader_ , which, I think you’d really like.”

“Wow,” Felicia replied distractedly.

“Did you know Kirsten Dunst was a cheerleader in high school?”

“Again,  _wow_ .”

“I know,” Spider-Woman said proudly, “I’m just full of fun facts.”

“You should let other people tell you they’re fun,” Felicia said dryly, internally rejoicing as the third tumbler clicked into place. Her fingers danced idly around the lock, stretching before she tried for the fourth.

“Aha! So you’ve seen  _Pitch Perfect_ .”

“What now?”

“Ugh,” Spider-Woman exhaled loudly, throwing her arms up in despair. “What do you even do in your spare time?”

Felicia spun around, eyeing the other woman and held out an arm in demonstration of the safe before her. “This!” She huffed, shifting in her crouching stance as one of her legs went to sleep. “Now leave me alone. Your incessant talking is distracting me.”

“I’ve been told I ramble when I’m nervous,” Spider-Woman laughed without revealing what it was she was nervous about. “And  _good_ , you shouldn’t be doing that.”

Felicia exhaled hard and noisily. “ _Bug off_ .”

Spider-Woman made a face. “Okay, now that one was bad.”

Then as Felicia watched, Spider-Woman leapt backwards out of the window they’d both come through and disappeared into the night. Swallowing around the sudden emptiness, Felicia cleared her mind and focussed on the job in front of her.

-

Two nights later saw Felicia scrambling across rooftops again, sirens and helicopter in hot pursuit. She’d had to ditch out in the middle of a job when it suddenly became obvious the police presence were going to get in her way.

“I know this is your fault,” she yelled, leaping the gap between two buildings and landing on her feet, knees singing out in pain. Felicia winced, but didn’t hesitate in taking off again. One more block and she could make it to ground level and hide out in an abandoned shop until everything calmed down.

“This is your  _entire_ fault,” she shouted again to the shadows shifting just behind her. A peel of nervous laughter came in reply.

“ _Sorry_ !” Spider-Woman called back, her form disappearing into the darkness to Felicia’s right. Felicia cursed back at her.

-

“I know this was you,” the Tinkerer shouted, waving a rolled up newspaper at Felicia as she slid the door closed behind her.

“Please stop threatening me with a rolled up newspaper,” she said wearily, flopping into the chair opposite this work desk, “I’m not a  _dog_ .”

“No, you’re an idiot!” He slammed the newspaper open, revealing on the fourth or fifth page in, a small story about a homeless shelter receiving an anonymous donation. The story reported that only initials were left,  _B.C_ ., not her full name, but apparently that was enough for the Tinkerer. “I get you your so-called ‘good karma’ jobs and  _this_ is what you go wasting it on?”

Felicia groaned, sinking further into her chair, pressing her hands over her eyes. “I just wanted to do something right.”

“Your  _job_ is not to do the right thing, Black Cat, you’re a  _thief_ . You deal in  _money,_ not good deeds,” the Tinker snapped.

Felicia gritted her teeth, in order to stop herself raising her voice back at him.

“Did you get it?” He asked a moment later.

“No,” Felicia hissed, “Spider-Woman got in my way.”

“ _Spider-Woman?_ ” the Tinkerer’s voice crept up in volume again. “You have to deal with her! How many more nights is she going to throw you off your game?”

“I can’t!” Felicia yelled, standing up so quickly her chair wobbled backwards. Her hands clenched into fists and relaxed again. The Tinkerer narrowed his eyes at her.

“Can’t?” he questioned, tone dangerously low.

“ _Can’t_ ,” she shouted and stormed out the door, slamming it closed.

-

“Felicia!” A familiar voice called down the corridor, shaking off the reverie Felicia had managed to summon up after another night of no sleep. Her argument with the Tinkerer had left her in bad spirits. Felicia sighed and slowed her pace as Mary Jane jogged to catch up.

“I really don’t feel like talking right now, especially to you, Mary Jane,” she said, even as she shifted her bag to the other side so they walk comfortably side-by-side. Mary Jane smiled brightly, despite the rebuke, red hair dancing her shoulders like fire in the afternoon light and she matched step with Felicia.

“What happened to MJ?” she teased. Felicia flushed, recalling using her nickname in the heat of their emotional moment. Despite it being a week ago now, she couldn’t shake the heaviness that night had settled on her chest.

Then she remembered she was supposed to be irritated at the redhead and rolled her eyes. “What are you doing here so late?”

“Detention,” Mary Jane said brightly, unusually cheerful for someone been made to stay late after school to sit in silence in a classroom. “For tardiness. You?”

“Working on an English paper in the library.”

“Oh! Want some help? I know I’m late for almost every English class, but I can take a look.”

“No thanks,” Felicia said shortly. Mary Jane’s smile flickered and she sighed. 

“Felicia, look. I have something for you.”

She stopped walking and Felicia stopped too, turning to watch Mary Jane rummaging through her bag. Felicia hugged her books close to her chest as Mary Jane pulled out a small cloth bag. She revealed from the bag a camera. Felicia leaned in. It was a nice one too. A Nikon DSLR, a few years old, but in excellent condition.

“It’s Gayle’s old camera. She doesn’t want it since she quit that photography course last year.” Mary Jane smiled after she explained.

Felicia raised an eyebrow. “What’s this got to do with me?”

“Oh!” Mary Jane shoved the camera into Felicia’s hand who juggled it delicately with all her other books. “There was this ad in the paper and, well, take a look.”

Mary Jane held out a newspaper advert she’d clearly ripped out of the paper.  _Who still used the paper to advertise?_ Felicia thought, meanly, then realised it was from the same one the Tinkerer had brandished at her only 24 hours ago. The proud part of her wondered if Mary Jane had seen the article.

She skimmed the ad. “Oh.”

It was a position as a junior photographer for the  _Daily Bugle_ . She looked up at Mary Jane with a raised eyebrow who was smiling back hesitantly.

“And you want me to do this?

“Yes,” Mary Jane said with a nod.

“Instead of my, uh, night job?”

Mary Jane nodded again firmly. Felicia thought about, fingers forming a grip around the camera as if she was going to take a photo.

“I don’t have a portfolio,” Felicia muttered, even as an idea was beginning to take formation. It appealed to her creative side, an outlet of sorts for the things being Black Cat couldn’t sort out.

“You have a camera now,” Mary Jane countered. She was practically bouncing with excitement at her own idea.

“Fine,” Felicia said, “on one condition.”

Mary Jane grinned. “Anything!”

“I want to take photos of you.”

-

“Stop looking at the camera!” Felicia scolded. Spider-Woman laughed.

“Sorry,” she called, landing on the roof with backflip. Felicia lowered the camera ever so slightly to glare over the edge.

“Hopeless,” Felicia muttered, “never become a model.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Spider-Woman shot back and even with the mask down, Felicia could tell she was smiling. Felicia directed her back to her mark, and crouched to get a good shot of her swinging by.

After a few swing-bys, Felicia sat back against the rooftop and flicked through the photos she’d taken. Shielding the screen from the sunset, she deleted the rubbish ones. There were some great action shots, Spider-Woman’s lithe body cutting through the sky like a knife. Her instant favourite was a photo of Spider-Woman, half way between one web line and another, both arms outstretched. There was an air of delight in her posture, she practically radiated joy. Even Felicia had to smile.  _It would look even more amazing with Mary Jane’s red hair streaming around her face and her lit up face_ , Felicia thought.

_Oh fuck_ , she thought a moment later,  _this was going to be a_ thing _, wasn’t it?_

“How do they look?” Spider-Woman said, standing above her and craning to look at the screen.

“Pretty good, I’m a natural at this,” Felicia smirked and felt as Spider-Woman rolled her eyes back at her. “Reckon you could stop a crime for the next one?” 

Spider-Woman paused. “Probably not. But I could do some dramatic poses?”

Felicia shrugged. “Works for me.”

She raised the camera again as Spider-Woman climbed up a wall, only to hang upside-down. She managed a couple more serious ones before Spider-Woman clearly started getting bored and coming up with increasingly silly poses before she hopped down.

“Hey,” Felicia said suddenly, courageous from behind the camera, “take off your mask.”

Spider-Woman paused, facing her. The sun had disappeared behind the skyline, but its rays were still creating a halo around the superhero’s head and painting the sky a beautiful tapestry of reds and purples.

“I’m not going to sell it, it’s just,” Felicia stopped, swallowing her last words.  _Just for me._

Spider-Woman tugged up the front of the mask, before pulling off the whole helmet, hair cascading around her shoulders. Felicia’s breath caught in her throat as her finger depressed the camera button without even thinking.

Mary Jane smiled, slow and knowingly and reached out towards the camera. Felicia got one last photo in, of Mary Jane’s hand covering half the screen and her perfect smile, before she eased her hand down. Felicia’s heart leapt into her mouth as Mary Jane leaned closer. She seemed so confident, but a slight tremor in the hand over Felicia’s betrayed her nerves.

Felicia’s eyes slipped closed at the last moment before their lips brushed. Mary Jane pressed forward, slanting her head ever so slightly before pulling back again. Felicia chased after her, catching her lips again and holding her there. They stayed, joined at the lips and their hands as the sun completely sank below the horizon.

Mary Jane only pulled away when the sound of sirens came blaring from the street below. She looked guiltily over her shoulder in the direction they were racing.

“You should go,” Felicia said quietly. Mary Jane squeezed her hand, smiling apologetically before pulling her helmet and mask on.

“We’ll talk about  _that_ later,” Mary Jane promised seriously, back towards the edge. Felicia shrugged her shoulders and waved as she dived backwards off the roof.

“Catch you later, Cat!”

“No you won’t,” Felicia called back, voice carried off by the wind. She managed to get one last photo as Spider-Woman swung off down the street in the direction of danger.

-

The next day being a Saturday, Felicia was procrastinating on writing a paper wrapped up in bed at home when the call came through.

“This one’s a doozy,” even the Tinkerer sounded excited, “but only if you’re prepared to behave.”

Felicia glanced at the camera sitting, like a guilty promise, on her desk. “I’m in.”

-

“ _Are you avoiding me_ ?”

“Yes,” Felicia replied through gritted teeth, dropping down on a grappling hook into the belly of a warehouse. The place was deserted, the small cell of A. I. M. scientists having been called out by a phony command centre on some emergency job. Armed with the new stun blasts the Tinkerer had built into her gloves (designed with the express purpose to putting Spider-Woman out of action without  _permanently_ putting her out of action), Felicia had taken out the remaining skeleton staff in order to make her way into the bowels of the criminal laboratory unmolested. Except by Spider-Woman apparently.

She appeared in Felicia’s vision, upside down, hanging from a thin rope of her own webbing. Her voice was quiet for once, but still seemed to echo in the empty space. “Is this because of the,” she swallowed the last word, but Felicia knew exactly what she was referring to.

“No,” Felicia sighed. “That was,” she stopped herself, remembering the mission, herself and the Tinkerer’s fury at her continued entanglement with the superhero. “I can’t work properly with you around. And I really need to focus this time.”

“Okay,” Spider-Woman breathed out, obviously relieved, “have you seen about that job yet?”

“No,” Felicia said, inching herself down slowly. “Don’t move, you’re just outside the field of a motion sensor to your left further down.” It was a lie, not crafted with ill intentions, but to stop the superhero from following her any longer into the job. Spider-Woman stilled.

“Are you going to?”

Felicia swallowed, still moving silently, and weighed her options. To her, there was no logical reason why she couldn’t do both jobs, the photography stint and, you know,  _this._ She reasoned it would be possible to keep the two worlds separated, both the Tinkerer and Mary Jane happy while still fulfilling her primary goal of making sure her mother was in good financial standing and good health  _and_ providing for the less fortunate.  _At least for now_ , Felicia assured herself,  _I can make the checks and balances work_ .

“Yes,” she replied after what seemed like the longest moment. “First thing tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is Sunday.”

“First thing Monday.”

“Good,” Spider-Woman seemed to smile and Felicia’s breath caught as she remembered the second last photo she took, Mary Jane’s shining eyes and disarming smile. When Felicia recovered and looked back up, Spider-Woman was already climbing out through the skylight, satisfied that whatever Black Cat was up to would be the last of it. Felicia tried not to feel too guilty.

-

Which was how Felicia found herself in the offices of the  _Daily Bugle_ fifteen minutes after class had ended on Monday afternoon. She clutched her empty portfolio to her chest, photos spread across the desk in front of her.

J. Jonah Jameson brandished a particularly nice shot (in her own humble opinion) of Spider-Woman twisting elegantly through the air, the freefall between one web line and the next, at her, his moustache bristling. “Do you know Spider-Ma--  _Woman_ , Harmon?”

“No,” Felicia lied smoothly, not breaking eye contact with the editor in chief. He sucked in breath, looking for all the world like a bull gearing up to charge.

“So, you just  _asked_ Spider-Woman for some photos?”

“Yes. I did.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “So,  _now_ you know her?”

“I know her favourite hot dog topping,” Felicia shrugged, then quickly added silkily, “but if I did know anything I’d report it immediately to the appropriate authorities.”

Jameson huffed, apparently satisfied. He glanced at the corner where a boy in glasses was sitting quietly, fiddling with his camera and then at the open door and then back at Felicia. His voice dropped in tone. “Can you get more? Can you get her  _in action_ ?”

Felicia paused, carefully watching Jameson leaning over desk towards her. She also looked over at the photographer in the corner, who shifted in his seat and looked away when she made eye contact. “Yes.”

Jameson pursed his lips, then barked out, “Parker, out!”

The kid with the camera sighed almost silently and shuffled from the corner out of the room.

“Close the door!” Jameson yelled after him and the door swung shut with a slam. The editor in chief of  _the Daily Bugle_ collapsed back in his chair with a curse. Felicia debated whether or not to sit as well and decided on standing in case she needed to make a fast get away.

“For fucks sake,” Jameson rubbed his eyes with his hands, “Spider-Man is a  _woman._ Goddammit.”

This continued for a while and Felicia watched in increasingly bored silence, nodding occasionally at Jameson’s dramatics. Eventually, he exhaled in a long slow hiss, seeming to deflate into his chair. He shoved Felicia’s photos to the side and pulled out a piece of paper. “You’re on the, uh, Spider-Woman job, Harmon. I want more and I want better.”

With that he made a dismissive gesture and Felicia figured that she was actually hired and that it was in fact, time to get to work.

“Oh and tell Parker he’s strictly on the Fantastic Four publicity gig from now on.”

Felicia stumbled over her thanks and swiftly exited, leaning on the outside of the door to close it. Parker looked up with a raised eyebrow and Felicia exaggeratedly rolled her eyes but smiled. He grinned back and she sensed there could definitely be some camaraderie potential here. She relayed the information to him, but to her surprise he looked relieved.

“More time to spend snapping pics of Johnny Storm,” he hid a sly smile, but not the gleam in his eyes and Felicia laughed suddenly.

“You go to Midtown, don’t you?” she asked. He nodded. “I’ve seen you around.”

“That’s a surprise,” Parker said wryly, “a cheerleader noticing a total geek.”

Felicia flushed, but feigned a casual shrug. “I quit, actually.” 

“I’ll be sure to tell the school paper,” the photographer quipped back quickly. Felicia appraised the other boy. Underneath his thick unfashionable glasses and unruly mess of brown hair was a reasonably handsome face. He wasn’t tall, but still had a lanky awkwardness about him and if the dents on his camera were anything to go by, he had a clumsy streak a mile wide.

“Felicia,” she said, sticking her hand out. He juggled his camera to shake hers, grip confident.

“I know, I mean, I’m Peter,” he struggled out a moment later. Felicia smiled in what she hoped was a non-threatening way. “But, uh, your last name, isn’t it?” He trailed off.

Felicia pinned him with a look. “The name Hardy draws a little unwanted attention and I wasn’t sure if Mr Righty in there was going to be so comfortable hiring a convicted criminal’s daughter.”

Her gaze became a challenge, but a moment later her nodded and raised her shoulders in understanding. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Thanks,” she breathed, relaxing minutely. “I’ll see you at school.”

“Yeah, see you at the game.”

Felicia smiled back at him as she left the newspaper offices, then frowned as she hit the lifts.  _What game?_

-

< _are you coming to the game_ > Felicia’s phone lit up. She frowned at the lack of punctuation, but really, when the majority of her contacts did bother actually typing out words; she didn’t have much to complain about. She bit into her hot dog, sitting on the fire stairs above her homeless shelter of the week, watching their visitors come and go.

Chewing thoughtfully she replied. < _Don’t text and web at the same time_ . > Then another, after swallowing, < _And what game?_ >

She was finishing the hot dog, wiping her hands on the side of her leggings when her phone vibrated with a reply. The text was a photo of Mary Jane’s feet poking out the bottom of a comforter, laptop with some movie paused on the screen. There appeared to be cheerleaders. The accompanying text read < _its my night off :)_ >.

Felicia screwed up her face, partly in jealousy of Mary Jane warmly wrapped up in bed, while Felicia idled the hours away in the cold til her job could start proper. A second text came through. < _girls bball semis tomorrow night. you coming_ >

She sent back < _I’m not a cheerleader anymore_ . >, pulling her hood close around her cold ears.  _Earmuffs_ , she thought,  _next time I’ll bring earmuffs_ .

< _come be my personal cheerleader ;)_ > came through alarmingly fast. Felicia blushed, suddenly much warmer, then snorted at the mental image of herself in a Spider-Cheerleader outfit.

< _I’ll be there_ . > she promised, already figuring out how she was going to break the news to the Tinkerer that she wouldn’t be working on an otherwise lucrative Friday night. There was a long gap between that text and the next and Felicia was scrolling through her newsfeed when it came through.

_< you could come around now….. if you’re free>_

Felicia internally cursed herself, this life of crime and the whole world for conspiring against her as the alert came through that her target was on the move and the premises were clear. She stamped her food petulantly at the poor timing.

< _Busy._ > she typed quickly, already gearing up into work mode, < _Maybe tomorrow night after the game?_ >

The reply came straight away. < _done!!!!!! :)_ >. Felicia had to smile. She toggled the lenses in her mask to night vision and leapt off the building into a graceful swing towards her intended job.

-

Hours later, Felicia finally collapsed in bed, exhausted but richer and remembered to check her phone as she set her alarm for tomorrow morning.

< _u r missing out on bring it on…._ > it read. Felicia screwed her face up as Mary Jane proved to have just as poor spelling as punctuation, but fell asleep before she could reply.

-

Felicia pulled her knees up to her chest and rested the camera as a bridge across her two knees. Peering through the viewfinder, she had an excellent view of the whole court from her seat near the top of the bleachers. She looked up when Mary Jane spotted her and waved enthusiastically. Felicia waved back stealthily, hopefully not too many people in the crowd would notice.

Her reverie was broken when Peter Parker sat down next to her similarly wielding his camera. “Hey,” he smiled and Felicia returned it.

“Hi, didn’t expect to see you here.” She thought about what she’d said and frowned. “Despite, yaknow, saying you were going to be here.”

Peter shrugged, propping his feet up on the seat in front of him and brushing his hair away from his glasses. “School paper wants a couple of shots. Our girls’ basketball team is doing better than the boys’. For the first time.”

Felicia smiled to herself, guessing at the reason behind that. Although maybe having Spider-Woman on your team was a bit like cheating. They chatted back and forth about the game once it started.

“Hey,” Felicia asked suddenly, “did you got to that biology field trip?”

“To Oscorp?” Peter frowned, searching his memories, weeks back, and Felicia nodded. “No. I was home from school with flu all that week.”

Felicia processed this information, playing with the strings on her hoodie.

“Why do you ask?” Peter prompted, lifting his camera to get a shot of the other team scoring. Felicia shrugged, hoping he would feel it, if he didn’t see it out the corner of his eye.

“No real reason. Just wondering if you knew about, um, anything happening.” While not untrue, the echo of Mary Jane’s words felt like ash in her mouth. Glancing at the profile of the boy sitting next to her, Felicia wondered what would have happened differently if they’d been at Oscorp on that particular day. Or maybe if they’d all have gone on a different day. Or two hours later. Would Mary Jane still be Spider-Woman? Would there be a Spider-Woman at all? Or, a Spider- _Man_ ? If Mary Jane wasn’t Spider-Woman, Felicia wouldn’t be Black Cat and then Mary Jane wouldn’t have kissed her and she wouldn’t be sitting here next to Peter. The thought made Felicia’s head spin.

_Thank God alternate universes aren’t real,_ Felicia sighed, slouching down in her plastic seat. She reminded herself to never ask the Fantastic Four, should she have the chance, just in case it turned out the whole thing  _was_ plausible. A shadow fell over her and Felicia looked up into the face of Gwen Stacy.

“Hey Peter,” she said casually, something in her stance betraying an underlying tension, “Hey Felicia, can I talk to you for a second? In private?”

Before Felicia replied, she glanced at Peter, who was already shuffling off, taking the dismissal too easily. “I’ll talk to you later,” she called out and he smiled over his shoulder. Gwen was still hovering. Felicia rolled her eyes at the blonde girl.

“Sit down, you’re making me nervous.”

Strings cut, Gwen collapsed mechanically into the seat on Felicia’s other side. She seemed to struggle with what she was trying to say so Felicia made pretence of taking a photo of the team. It triggered something in Gwen who sat up straight again.

“You’re Felicity Harmon, aren’t you?”

Felicia looked at her. Gwen appeared on edge, chewing on her bottom lip. Her usually neat blonde hair looked slightly disarrayed and shadows around her eyes suggested she hadn’t been sleeping.

“I know you are,” Gwen pressed, “the similarities between the names, your sudden appearances with a camera and friendship with Peter Parker, a known freelance photographer for the  _Daily Bugle_ and,” she paused, suddenly unsure, “I saw you this afternoon at the Sandman robbery, before the police got there. With  _her._ ”

Felicia sighed. “You’re not your father’s daughter for nothing, huh? What do you want Gwen? I’m not making this public for a reason, you know.”

“I know,” she swallowed, “I need to meet Spider-Woman.”

“Why? So you can set up a little ambush with your cop buddies and finally get some answers? I don’t think so,” Felicia growled. Her eyes flicked to Mary Jane, yelling orders on the court, skin flushed like her hair and felt a surge of protectiveness.

“No, I,” Gwen paused again, “I need her help.”

Felicia studied Gwen for a long moment. She didn’t know if she was a good judge of a liar, but considered herself a fairly good liar and surely she’d sense dishonesty in another. However, Gwen really wouldn’t be sacrificing much if she was betraying Felicia; their friendship wasn’t strong and as long as Gwen didn’t think Felicia was Black Cat, she didn’t have much to fear from a fellow high school girl. Weighing up her options, Felicia gave her the benefit of the doubt, but decided to tag along to the meeting as her alter-ego, just in case.

“Fine. I’ll let her know. But I’m not her manager, and don’t ask for an autograph.”

Gwen smiled wanly and thanked her, before standing and rushing off. Peter returned a moment later and reclaimed his seat. “What was that all about?”

Felicia forced a grin and rolled her eyes. “Superheroes.”

Peter echoed her look. “I  _know_ right.”

-

Mary Jane’s team won the game by a huge score, placing them in the finals next week. They’d rushed off to the change rooms, but Mary Jane had texted Felicia to tell her to wait the ten minutes for her. Which is how Felicia and Peter ended up waiting around in the car park for his pick up and her victorious captain.

Peter’s phone lit up and Felicia glanced over to get a glimpse of his screensaver. Johnny Storm smiled brilliantly out of the cell phone, flames flickering around half his face. Felicia smirked.

“You really like the guy, huh?” she said wryly. Peter gave her an exasperated look, but couldn’t hide his smile.

“But some miracle,” he replied, conspiratorially, “it’s mutual.”

Felicia mock gasped, then realised he wasn’t kidding. “Woah, really? I wouldn’t have thought you were his type. No offence.”

“Me neither,” Peter laughed, a faint pink blush crawling over his cheeks, “until one day I was.” They both giggled.

“You weren’t joking about appreciating the F4 gig then.”

Peter shook his head slowly, as if laughing at himself more than anything. “That’s what did it in the first place. Forced proximity. Something about this,” he gestured to all of himself, “just charmed the pants off him, eventually.”

He grinned proudly at this and Felicia couldn’t help the smile that sprung to her face either. “Good for you!” She punched him lightly in the arm and he rubbed the spot, pouting stupidly at her.

A red convertible squealed into the car park and Peter waved as it pulled near. Youngest and hottest (double meaning intended) member of the Fantastic Four, and apparently Peter’s boyfriend, Johnny Storm was lounging the driver’s seat.

“That’s my ride,” Peter said, shooting Felicia an unimpressed look as Johnny leant on the horn. He shouldered his camera and jogged for the car.

“I’m jealous,” Felicia yelled out at his back.

“Don’t be!” Peter called back, “the driver’s an ass.”

As soon as Peter was in, Johnny revved the engine and sped off, leaving Felicia waving to the hastily retreating taillights. She dropped her hand, slowly, feeling also the emptiness of the dark night creep in and replace her good spirits.

“You’re still here!”

Felicia jumped in her skin and spun around scowling. “Don’t sneak up on me,” she scolded Mary Jane, still looking a little damp from the post-game shower, but grinning brightly.

“Sorry,” she all but sang, clearly buzzed from the adrenaline and the win, “did you see us beat their asses?”

“Good job,” Felicia congratulated, pulling Mary Jane into a one armed hug around her shoulders. The redhead, arms full of basketball gear, nuzzled at Felicia with her chin in return. The gesture sent goosebumps spiralling down her arms as she pulled away.

“So,” Mary Jane practically bounced on the spot, “celebration time?”

Felicia frowned, lips forming a hard line. “Time to suit up, I’m afraid.”

-

“She really wanted to meet in a park?” Spider-Woman questioned, sounding hesitant. Felicia shrugged, aware that Spider-Woman probably hadn’t seen the action. They landed on the edge of a local park near the Stacys’ house, Felicia falling ungracefully through a tree with a grunt and Spider-Woman snickered.

“Fuck off,” Felicia muttered as Spider-Woman helped her to her feet.

“You can always go home,” Spider-Woman threatened, but seemed unwilling to let go of her hand. Felicia shook her head and they made their way through the trees to a lit section of the park where Gwen was sitting on a bench, texting away seemingly oblivious on her phone. She looked up, surprised.

Spider-Woman waved, “hiya!”

“What are you doing?” Felicia hissed and her partner threw her hands up.

“I’m nervous!” Spider-Woman whispered back. “What if she figures us out?”

Felicia closed her hand around the superhero’s wrist, squeezing gently. “Just relax, you’ll be fine.  _We’ll_ be okay.”

Spider-Woman smiled at her, just visible through the mask and Felicia smiled back reassuringly, before dropping behind her a step. Gwen stood up as Spider-Woman approached, but she waved her back down and they both perched on the bench. Felicia hovered behind Spider-Woman.

“Gwen? Right?” Spider-Woman said, settling into back onto the bench. Gwen nodded, blonde hair bobbing over her shoulders.

“Who’s your friend?”

Spider-Woman twisted to look over her shoulder at Felicia. Then grinned. “My sidekick.”

“I am not!” Felicia practically squawked, crossing her arms sharply over her chest. Gwen raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Spider-Woman rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly.

“Well, she’s more like my archnemesis. I try and stop her committing crimes and she tries and stops me stopping her. It’s complicated.”

Gwen didn’t look entirely satisfied with the explanation, but let it pass. Her concerns obviously outweighed her suspicion of Felicia. She struggled for the words for a moment, her face pulling uncomfortably like it had when she was trying to ask Felicia for help at the game.

“My boss,” she started, “at the lab, that is, is missing.”

Spider-Woman frowned and leant in. “And not missing in a police-kind-of-missing way?”

Gwen shook her head. “Dr Connors was an eccentric, a bit of a recluse. Everyone assures me he’s just taking some time to recover from the excitement of his latest breakthrough.”

Gwen folded her hands on her lap and looked down, lips pursed.

“But?” Spider-Woman asked as Felicia said at the same time; “Breakthrough?”

Gwen looked between the two of them, but answered Spider-Woman’s question.

“But,” she took a breath, “he was acting so strange the last few days. Obsessed with you,” Gwen nodded at Spider-Woman, who, if surprised hid it well, “and the potential connection between you and his work. He locked himself in his lab for days, and now, gone.”

She lapsed into silence and even Spider-Woman seemed momentarily lost for words. Around the three of them the night air stilled. The wind stopped and even the foliage surrounding them was silent. Felicia sucked in a breath that hurt to get in.

“He approached me, once,” Spider-Woman said, suddenly, cracking the eerie silence, “he was sure I was a key to unlocking the potential in his work. The perfect, er, blending of the spider’s genes and mine,” she crossed her fingers together, “I don’t really get it all, but. He took a blood sample.”

Felicia pressed a hand against Spider-Woman’s shoulder, fixing Gwen with a steely look. “We’ll look into it. Can we have his home address to start with?”

Gwen nodded. “You’re better off starting with the lab, though. He spent most of his time there. I don’t think he’s been home in days.”

“And where’s the lab?” Felicia asked, with a sinking feeling. Gwen blinked up at her.

“Oscorp Tower,” she enunciated, slowly.

-

“So,” Felicia said with a mouthful of pre-investigation hot dog, thinking in the back of her mind how crazy it was that hotdog vendors were happy to sell their wares to not-unknown superheros in costume and everything. And supervillains, she corrected herself, mentally cringing at the mistake. She chewed a moment longer and swallowed. “So, this Connors guy and his team bred a bunch of mutant spiders, possibly radioactive, one of which  _bit_ you and turned you into the amazing Spider-Woman–”

“Ooh, I like the sound of that,” Spider-Woman interjected, clicking her fingers dully through her gloves.

“–then, took a blood sample in order to unlock whatever it is in your genes-slash-blood for his own cross-species super-soldier serum.”

“Did you add the super-soldier yourself?”

“Yes,” Felicia nodded firmly. “Everyone’s into super-soldiers these days.”

“You can’t see this, but I’m rolling my eyes at you.”

They finished their hot dogs, Felicia wiping her hands down the sides of her leggings. In companionable silence, they packed up, tossing their garbage and sorting out their gear. Spider-Woman pulled her mask back over her face and grinned underneath.

“Do I have any sauce on my face?”

It was Felicia’s turn to roll her eyes and shoulder past Spider-Woman roughly, before grappling up to the roof. “Coming?” she called, teasingly.

They scaled the side of the Oscorp Tower, the only sound their hands and feet gently sticking and pulling off the glass windows again. Below them the city buzzed with life, traffic and people filling the streets. Music drifted from a club across the street, just a bass beat and the various smells that Felicia associated with New York wafted on the breeze.

Felicia made her very own window and the two of them squeezed through, closing the gap as much as possible without shutting their way out completely. Inside the laboratory, only the emergency lighting and some of the machines were still running, otherwise the wide space was cloaked in darkness.

“Not quite how you imagined your excursion to Oscorp?” Spider-Woman laughed quietly and Felicia hummed thoughtfully.

“Exactly how I pictured it,” Felicia grinned, running her hand over a nearby piece of equipment that beeped softly. Things whirred and clicked, computers on standby with half-lit screens shone strange patterns across their bodies as they moved through the room.

“This way,” Spider-Woman whispered, leading through the labyrinth of desks to Connors’ office. The door was open and creaked on its hinges when pushed.

“Woah,” Felicia said, something crunching underfoot as she made her way in, “it’s totally trashed in here.”

The drawers of the desk had been pulled out and upturned across the floor, papers, books and stationary scattered everywhere. It looked as if what had been on top of the desk had been swept aside and there was a severe look dent in the side of a filing cabinet. Spider-Woman picked something up from the carnage and frowned enough to the crease the mask.

“Syringe,” she said, placing it down on the desk. Felicia noted that despite the broken needle and the depressed plunger, there still seemed to be a small amount of solution in the chamber.

“You think he used the serum?” Felicia asked. Spider-Woman shrugged.

“If he did, I don’t think we’re going to find any answers in here.”

They closed the office door behind them and Felicia pointed out where the lock had been torn from the socket, an indication that the door had been thrown open from locked.

Staying close together, they explored the rest of the nearby offices, when a loud crash caught their attention. Stalking towards the cold storage rooms, they split apart to circle around a bench. The automatic door in question seemed to be jammed apart, the extra cold air-conditioning blowing from the interior made Felicia want to stuff her hands deep into the hoodie pockets. Something moved within, clattering into a shelf with a rattle.

“Hello?” Spider-Woman called. “Dr Connors? It’s Spider-Woman. We’re here to help.”

All at the once the shuffling stopped. “Spider-Woman?” a low voice hissed back. The sound, somewhere between a snake and deep growl, made the hairs on the back of Felicia’s neck stand up. She extended her claws, flexing her hands by her side. After a nasty accident with the stunners involving practically tazering herself, they’d been removed, but now Felicia was starting to miss their reassuring presence. There was a thump and a dragging noise as the owner of the voice moved towards the door.

“Spider-Woman?” the voice said louder this time, and angry. A scaled arm, wider than one of Felicia’s legs shot out and ripped the rest of the door away from the door frame. Felicia spared a glance at Spider-Woman, who was already braced for attack. “You did this to me!”

The voice broke into a roar as a monster burst through the doorway, knocking them both back. It was triple the height of an average person and scaled all over. Some patches seemed smooth, but others were broken out in rough ridges, including the entirety of one arm, the hand curled into a scabby fist, hanging heavily by its side. Yellow reptilian eyes skittered between to the two girls.

“Dr Connors?” Spider-Woman ventured.

“Maybe once, now I am,” it sucked in a wet breath before roaring again, “Lizard!”

It swung its good hand at her, Spider-Woman just rolling back out of the way head first into a wall, and caught a nearby work desk, sending machinery flying, sparks of electricity jagging in front of Felicia’s eyes. The Lizard lumbered after Spider-Woman, still recovering from the blow, swinging its lame arm bodily at her and destroying the wall above her head.

Felicia gritted her teeth and pulling a keyboard from a computer and hurling it at the monster’s head. “Hey, handsome!”

The Lizard turned as the keyboard bounced uselessly off its head. It rounded on her, which was kinda the plan, but also a terrible one she realised as she grabbed a wheelie chair and launched it at the Lizard. It caught the chair in its claws and towered over Felicia as she stumbled backwards, tripping to the floor.

“You got something in your eye,” she said with more bravery than she felt as she flicked two flashbangs out of her sleeves and into the face of the monster. They exploded in blinding white light and noise, Felicia’s lens adjusting to protect her eyes, but her ears going momentarily deaf. Not quite deaf enough to block out the howling of the Lizard.

Spider-Woman swung overhead in the small space, scooping Felicia up at the lowest part of the swing and landing on the other side of the room. They both rolled behind a desk to catch their breath. Instinctively, they moved closer til their sides were pressed together, backs to the desk.

“We’re fucked,” Felicia mouthed, voice barely louder than a breath.

“There’s a party after the final next Friday,” Spider-Woman said suddenly. Felicia stared at her.  _Oh God_ , she thought,  _she’s picked a terrible time to totally lose it._

“I’m not a cheerleader,” Felicia replied automatically.

“I know that,” Spider-Woman said impatiently, “I’m asking you to go as my date.”

“What?” Felicia said, stunned and blinking at her friend, then; “you have absolutely the  _worst_ timing.”

Spider-Woman grinned under the mask, even as they could hear the Lizard approaching again. “Yeah. But I didn’t want to die without you knowing that I liked you. So, I like you.”

They split apart as the desk behind them cracked in two from the Lizard’s fist. It picked up half the desk and threw it after Spider-Woman who barely dodged out the way. Spider-Woman swore and Felicia summoned her courage from somewhere deep down inside her.

“Buddy,” she snarled, her fear transforming into quick hot anger, “we were kinda in the middle of something.”

Felicia sprang at him, dodging under his lame arm and dragged her claws across his side as she slid past. The wound was long, but shallow and he swatted at her, knocking her aside, but hurling most of his weight at the wall. The plaster of the wall cracked ominously.

Felicia and Spider-Woman shared a look, a silent plan forming between them. Without warning, they both dashed for the exit of the lab. The Lizard tore through work stations and machinery without breaking a sweat. They fell into the foyer, two steps ahead of the monster, blinking away the bright lights of the elevator bank. Spider-Woman reached for her hand and they gripped each other, sprinting through the foyer. Ahead was a wall of glass windows overlooking the city; earlier they’d agreed not to enter this way because of the greater number of security cameras focusing their attention here.

Spider-Woman twisted, one hand squeezing tightly around Felicia’s hand as she sprayed the Lizard’s face with web fluid. It yowled again as its vision was obscured with sticky webbing.

“Duck,” Felicia screamed, dragging them both to the floor and out of the Lizard’s thundering blind path. Felicia hit her chin, the reverberations sending stars across her vision. There was a crash and she looked up in time to see the Lizard shattering through the glass window and toppling out, arms flailing.

Spider-Woman was up in a flash, scrambling to the window and firing a web line at the falling creature. Felicia realised she must have missed when the superheroes arms went limp. She pushed up to look out the glass to watch the Lizard land with a thump. A moment later it hefted itself up and crawled into the nearest manhole, disappearing into the sewers.

“We should probably follow it,” Felicia said reluctantly, joining Spider-Woman at the broken window. She became aware of the sirens echoing across the city as emergency services finally raced towards Oscorp Tower.

“Maybe later,” Spider-Woman replied, eyeing the police arrival uneasily.

“I’ll go with you,” Felicia said suddenly.

Spider-Woman raised an eyebrow at her, the mask shifting minutely. “What, into the sewers?”

Felicia had to smile. “No, to the party, idiot.”

Spider-Woman grinned then. A news helicopter hovered into vision and Felicia, still riding on a wave of adrenaline, waved at it.

-

At home, Felicia collapsed onto bed. She winced as the bruises across her hip stretched uncomfortably. Her heart was still racing; the shock of the night fading into nervous exhaustion.  She scrubbed her hands across her eyes, fending off sleep for a moment more.

Underneath the excitement, Felicia began to wonder what she’d – they’d –actually achieved tonight. They saved a bunch of scientists from running into a giant lizard monster first thing at work tomorrow. In fact, they saved a bunch of scientists from having to go into work tomorrow at all; most of them would probably be dragged into questioning first thing.

They hadn’t gone in with a plan for dealing with the Lizard, expecting a lead on finding the man – Dr Connors, but now, she supposed they needed one.  _They needed to stop him_ . From what? _Hurting himself and others_ , she added. More importantly, another voice piped up, they needed to  _help_ him.

_Right_ , Felicia thought,  _but isn’t_ helping _a superhero’s job_ .

That left an uncomfortable heaviness in her stomach. What exactly was she now? Even Robin Hood was a criminal, an outlaw. But Spider-Woman, a vigilante, was also a target of police interest.

So, what was the difference between them and the Avengers?  _Well, power levels for one thing_ , Felicia thought. She rolled over, pulling the covers with her, thoughts rattling through her brain even as sleep took her.

Was it possible to be a good person and a criminal? In her mind, she pictured a set of scales, her father sitting on one side and Spider-Woman on the other side. She wondered how she could balance on the middle between them. Spider-Woman shook off the mask, red locks tumbling around Mary Jane’s face and Felicia fell asleep.

-

“Are you out of your  _fucking_ mind?” The Tinkerer exploded, gestured at the little television screen where he had paused it at the image of Black Cat waving from the broken window.

Felicia said nothing, bearing the brunt of his anger in silence, eyes fixed on the image on the screen. Somehow she couldn’t feel anything but pride at the scene. Last night, something had changed in her. She stood a little straighter.

“By throwing your lot in with her you have completely jeopardised this operation and your career,” he said coldly.

“Haven’t you ever wanted to, to, do something bigger than yourself?” Felicia pleaded, throwing her hands out towards him. His eyes narrowed at her and he shrunk away as if she was tainted somehow.

“No,” he replied, voice quiet, but almost shaking with the effort of keeping it so, “I want to make money and look after my family. I thought that was what you wanted, too.”

Felicia recoiled as if she’d been hit. “I do, I just.” She bit down on her lip.

The Tinkerer sighed, anger dispelling into the air and for the first time Felicia saw him as he really was. An old man, meddling with affairs that existed outside the confines of his room and hoping that things would still go his way. She felt something like pity.

“I didn’t mind,” he said quietly, deflated against the work bench, “when you wanted to do this conscientiously, but if this,” he indicated again to the screen, “is going to be your path, I can’t follow you down it.”

“Fine,” Felicia said, experiencing a kind of disappointment she wasn’t expecting. She felt as if suddenly there was so much more to say, but none of the right words formed themselves and she was left feeling hollow. The Tinkerer reached under his bench with carefully slow actions and placed a wrapped up package on top.

“The last of what our little deal covered,” he said with a dismissive wave. A final parting gift, Felicia realised with a lump in her throat. She tucked the parcel under her armpit and readied herself to leave.

The Tinkerer cleared his throat. “Your father had a very strong set of morals, just like you. Whatever they say, he was a good man.”

Felicia fixed her eyes on the door, fingers tightening in her pockets.

“My father was a liar and a thief, just like me.”

“Forget this address, Cat,” The Tinkerer warned and with a short, sharp nod Felicia left, sliding the door home behind her. She forced herself not to look back.

-

Felicia flicked idly through the photos on her laptop. She was having a hard time deciding between two near identical photos of Spider-Woman webbing up a mugger that she’d managed to snag the night before. She yawned. The whole exercise was shadowed by the fact that Jameson would somehow use her photos to push his own Anti-Spider-Woman agenda and Mary Jane said she didn’t particularly care, but it bothered Felicia still.

“You’re going to miss the start of the game if you don’t leave soon, kitten,” Mrs Hardy called from the kitchen. Felicia made a non-committal noise in response and reached for her jacket without taking her eyes off the screen. With a sigh, she hopped up from her seat and put her earrings in as she went for the hall mirror. Felicia rearranged her skirt and pulled her hair out from under the jacket collar. It felt strange going out after dark  _not_ in the hoodie, but she’d compromised and kept the boots.

“You will be safe tonight, won’t you?” Mrs Hardy poked a worried face around the kitchen doorway. Felicia smiled gently.

“ _Yes_ , Mom. I’ll be with MJ the whole time and I’ll be home before midnight,  _promise._ ”

Mrs Hardy smiled back, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Felicia turned back to the mirror, running some gloss over her lips. “I was thinking tomorrow,” Felicia continued, “we could go shopping for a new toaster.”

They both glanced towards the kitchen, where the old toaster was enjoying its retirement after finally giving up the ghost the morning before. "Don't forget your visit your father tomorrow morning."

Mrs Hardy gave her the same uncertain smile and ran her hand across the back of Felicia’s hair. She seemed on the edge of saying something and Felicia frowned, but waited for her to summon the words.

“Your dad might have said he did it all for us, but in the end he was a very selfish man,” Mrs Hardy paused, as if reconsidering her sudden confession. She met Felicia’s eyes in the mirror. “You’re so like your father, Leesha, but you’d give away every part of you to help someone else, wouldn’t you?”

Felicia watched her mother carefully, unsure how to answer. She reached back and wrapped her hand around her mom’s. Felicia didn’t know how to tell her everything she’d been doing since she found that box of her dad’s stuff. Part of her desperately wanted to sit her mom down and tell her about the Tinkerer and Spider-Woman and the crime and the homeless shelters and the photography and the Lizard and the feeling of soaring through the sky and the way her heart ached when Mary Jane kissed her, but she held back. They squeezed each other’s hand tightly.

“I love you, Mom,” Felicia whispered, willing her voice not to break. Mrs Hardy pressed a kiss to the back of her head, burying her face in Felicia’s hair momentarily.

“Love you, too,” she replied, pulling away, “be good tonight.”

“I’m always good,” Felicia forced a big smile, hugging her mom, before collecting her bag and leaving through the front door for a change. On her way down the stairs she called her friends.

-

Peter fell into the seat next to Felicia and smiled at both Felicia and Gwen sitting on her other side. He pushed his glasses back up his nose to focus on the little screen of his camera. Felicia leant over to look as well.

“They don’t look like they’re doing too well out there,” Peter commented, frowning. Felicia looked up, for Mary Jane, watching the redhead captain pointing and shouting out orders. She looked tired, but energised and glowed with the same kind of excitement and adrenaline Spider-Woman often exuded.

“They’re playing defensively this quarter,” Gwen said smartly, “just wait for the second quarter; they’ll spring into the offensive.”

“Oh,” Peter smiled at her in the surprise, “I didn’t know you were into basketball, Gwen.”

“She’s not,” Felicia rolled her eyes, “she’s parroting what I told her right before you sat down.”

Peter laughed and Gwen smiled and shrugged apologetically.  _This is nice_ , Felicia thought. Flash called and waved hello from a few rows down before climbing over the chairs to make it up to their row.

“Ladies,” he said with a seedy smile, before adding in a darker tone, “Parker.”

Peter mumbled something back, turning his total attention to his camera. They ignored each other beyond that.

“You two coming to the after-party?” Flash asked, pointing between Gwen and Felicia. They both nodded. Gwen leant forward across Felicia.

“You should come, Peter!”

Peter shrugged, “not really my scene.” Gwen frowned. Felicia looked up at ex-boyfriend and raised her eyebrows.

“You a Captain America fan, Flash?” she said, indicating the t-shirt he was wearing. The symbol of Captain America’s shield was bold against the black of his shirt. He grinned.

“Hell yeah, who isn’t?”

Felicia smiled slyly, feeling a trap closing around Flash. “Peter took some really cool photos for  _The Daily Bugle_ of Cap meeting the Fantastic Four last week, didn’t you Peter?”

She turned to him with the same smile and he flushed brightly. “Uh, yeah,” he muttered. Flash looked at him with renewed interest.

“Can I have a look?” he said, leaning over the row of chairs towards Peter. The photographer hesitated, before twisting in his seat to give Flash a view of the screen on the camera without actually handing the camera over. They both fell silent and Felicia and Gwen shared a secret smile.

“Your basketball photos are pretty good too, Parker,” Flash said, sounding surprised. Peter smiled wryly.

“Thanks.”

“If, uh,” Flash said, having finished being shown photos of the F4 and Captain America, and sprawling into the seat next to Gwen. He looked awkward. “If Gwen thinks you should come to this party, you should.”

He nodded, confident in his words and Gwen lit up, nodding as well. Peter smiled. “Yeah, maybe.”

Felicia took the moment to look across the crowd closer to the front of the bleachers. She found Liz Allen down with the cheerleaders, frowning darkly up at Gwen and Flash laughing together, arms crossed.  _Trouble in paradise already_ , Felicia thought. She tried to summon some emotion about their potential break up and found that though high school drama didn’t interest her, but she did want the best for all these people she would tentatively call her friends. The realisation warmed her chest.

Her eyes were drawn to Mary Jane who was jogging down the court. Mary Jane stopped suddenly, a look Felicia couldn’t place crossing over her face. Then she looked straight up at Felicia and Felicia realised her spider-sense had been triggered. Felicia leapt to her feet, her friends around her shouting out in surprise.

The world seemed to slow down, the perfect eye contact between Mary Jane and Felicia broken as Mary Jane’s gaze slid over to the back wall of the gymnasium, her mouth forming an o-shape. There was a loud crash and it took Felicia a moment to register that the wall was partially crumbling in as the Lizard’s scaly head shot through the gap with a roar.

Felicia locked eyes with Mary Jane again and then yelled, “Go!”

“What’s--?” Gwen stumbled to her feet, but Felicia shoved her in the direction of the exit. Mary Jane had already disappeared somewhere, to make the necessary costume changes.

“Get everyone out of here!”

People were already scrambling up and screaming, the gym descending quickly into chaos around them. Nodding mutely, Flash took Gwen’s arm and started tugging her towards the exit doors, even as Gwen started trying to rally the crowd into staying calm and orderly. Felicia grabbed her backpack and made for the end of the bleachers closest to the monster, but Peter stopped her.

“What are you doing?” he asked, eyes wide like a saucers, clutching at his camera. Felicia remembered the Lizard’s strong reaction to the flashbang. She couldn’t use one here without totally giving herself away, but maybe the flash on her camera would be strong enough to buy some time.

“Something good, hopefully.”

She raced to the end of the bleachers as the Lizard shook the last of the wall debris off himself. He snarled and heaved himself forward, dragging his lame arm against the linoleum floor.

“Where is Spider-Woman?” it growled, Felicia winced at the volume of his voice, crouching half out of view as she approached. “I can  _smell_ her here.”

“Don’t you know it’s creepy to sniff ladies,” Felicia yelled, lifting the camera as he turned and hitting the button. The flash went off in the Lizard’s face and it reeled back, staggering dangerously into the end of the bleachers. Felicia stumbled, catching herself on the chair in front of her.

“How about one for the school paper?” called Peter, appearing from the other side of the gym, camera raised and ready. Before Felicia could shout out a warning, he’d already hit the trigger, setting off an even brighter flash. The Lizard yowled this time and swung blindly at Peter who threw himself backwards.

Felicia screamed, but before the monster’s claws could connect, its whole arm seemed to be suspended in mid-air. The Lizard pulled against the webbing, joining its claws to the ceiling, but to no avail. Spider-Woman landed deftly on the Lizard’s back, out of reach of its bite. When it reached round with its other arm, she caught it in webbing and leapt in a graceful arc to tie it off at the basketball hoop. She landed near Peter who looked on in awe.

“Great job, you two,” Spider-Woman said hastily, “now get out of here!” The basketball hoop pole creaked ominously as the Lizard tested his temporary bindings. Peter scrambled to his feet and sprinted for the exit. Felicia paused before following him. She wanted to tell Spider-Woman she’d back in just a moment, not to be scared and that she really did like her too, even if she’d never said it.

The pole screeched as the Lizard tore free from the webbing, bending the hoop in two as it did and Felicia ran for it. All she needed was somewhere to pull on her hoodie, mask and gloves and she’d be back. Her heart thumped loudly and painfully against her chest as she ducked away from the crowd to change.

-

Felicia skidded back into the gymnasium moments later, her boots squealing on the floor. The spacious room was devoid of life and looking particularly wrecked. The hoop at one end had been completely bent in half, there was a fearsome dent in the bleacher seats and almost half of the back wall was missing.

Swearing, Felicia flung herself up and out of the whole in the wall, rappelling her way up to the nearest roof. The city stretched grey and lonely beneath the lingering storm clouds. Looking to the North she could make out the green gap where Central Park broke through the skyscrapers. From the same direction, Felicia could just make out the sound of sirens and a tendril of smoke spiralling upwards.

“Dammit,” she bit her lip. She was never going to find them. She couldn’t do anything and MJ was going to go up against this monster alone. And if she got hurt – if she wasn’t already – it was Felicia’s fault for not making it there, for not being by her side. Felicia’s hands tightened into fists, the claws of her gloves pressing against the soft flesh of her hands.

_No, it couldn’t end like this_ . She shoved her fear down, covering it up with determination and swung off the building, trusting her instinct and heading towards the fire and the sirens. She was half way through long swing when a voice interrupted her.

“I don’t suppose you know anything about a monster rampaging uptown, miss?”

Felicia bit off a scream, but lost her form and almost dropped herself. She found herself being held up by an invisible force field. With one tentative hand, she reached down to tap the disk she was sitting on. It was hard like glass, but tinted ever so slightly blue.

She twisted and gaped at the Fantastic Four sitting in the Fantasticar behind her, the Invisible Woman leaning over the side, one arm stretched towards her. Reluctantly, Felicia released the grappling hook, winding it back in with a  _thunk_ .

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” the Invisible Woman smiled apologetically, the Human Torch and Thing looking on with identical looks of amusement. Felicia scowled, but dropped the expression when she remembered the problem at hand.

“It is uptown, then,” Felicia demanded, “I’m going the right way?”

Mr Fantastic frowned, “yes, but—”

Felicia cut him off. “This scientist really fucked up some experiment and now he’s a giant Lizard monster and Spider-Woman is facing him alone and,” she took a breath, “I have to get there.”

“Spider-Woman?” the Human Torch asked, while the Invisible Woman and Mr Fantastic exchanged looks.

“Get in,” the Invisible Woman said as the Thing held out a hand to help her into the vehicle, “and tell us the whole story on the way.”

The Human Torch shuffled over, slinging his arm over the back of the seat with a sleazy grin as Felicia climbed in. She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Keep your hands to yourself, mister, I know your boyfriend.” 

The Human Torch’s face shifted through an interesting series of emotions before settling on impressed. Felicia launched into her explanation as the Fantasticar sped off.

 -

Queensboro Bridge loomed in the setting sun, painting the East River with an intricate pattern of jagged lines on the shifting surface. Flashing lights and fires lit up the Manhattan end. Felicia stood, bracing her legs wide around the seat and squinted into the smoke and chaos. The Lizard ripped aside the curtains of smog and tore into the bridge, chasing a twisting red star.

Her hands tightened around the seat she was holding onto, claws digging into the soft cushioning. She forced herself to take another breath, the one she had clinging to her lungs uncomfortably. Felicia’s world view narrowed to the approaching bridge and the two figures dancing between life and death.

“Reed,” The Thing muttered, his gravelly voice in askance of their next actions.

Mr Fantastic frowned, thin lines marring his brow and he tapped his fingers on the vehicle’s dashboard bringing up a holographic heads-up display. “Obviously, we’ll need a sample. I can reverse engineer that into way to revert Connors—”

“There’s no time!” Felicia blurted out. Below, Spider-Woman was on the defensive, her movements already slowing down after playing cat-and-mouse with the Lizard halfway across the city. Whatever her plan had been, it seemed to have run out of ideas at luring him to the bridge.

“Black Cat,” the Invisible Woman soothed, face concerned and hand soft on Felicia’s elbow. She wanted to throw the touch off. Mr Fantastic directed his frown at Felicia, neck stretching to twist around to face her.

“You’ll be surprised how fast I can work, young lady. Ben and I will procure the sample, Johnny and our friend here will evacuate from the North end and Sue will take the South.”

Felicia’s eyes slid from him to the battle on the bridge just in time to see Spider-Woman going flying into a car from a swipe from the Lizard.

“No!” The scream came unbidden to her mouth, distant as if someone else had shouted, not her. As the Fantasticar swung round over the bridge again, Felicia tensed up, bringing her legs close up under her and leapt from the vehicle. She braced herself in the moment of freefall, landing with a stumble on one of the tall crossbars.

In the back of her mind, she registered the pain singing its way up from her ankle, probably twisted and pushed it aside. The wind threw her momentarily off-balance and somewhere behind her or above her the escalating voices of the Fantastic Four where drowned out by the whistling of air through the cantilever bridge. A roar from the Lizard focused Felicia’s attention to the scene below her. She dropped down between the bars of her bridge, close to Spider-Woman’s location, ducking when she hit the road to avoid a car hurtling overhead.

“Spider-Woman!” Felicia yelled, quashing the desperation in her voice. The other hero whipped around, webbing a flying car door midair and flinging it sideways. One of her eyepieces was cracked, revealing a tell-tale green eye and she’d lost most of one sleeve, arm covered in dried and fresh blood.

Spider-Woman called something back, but a squeal of metal on metal as the Lizard gutted another car, hurling the broken pieces towards them, drowned out her voice. Felicia scowled at the monster.

“Can it! We’re trying to have a conversation!” Instinctually she shot a grappling hook at it, catching the Lizard in the face. Felicia paled as she realised the hook was stuck fast in its eye. The Lizard screamed in pain, grabbing at the wire and pulling. Felicia flew forwards, stumbling onto her front and barely remembering to cover her face before it she was covered with road rash. Spider-Woman yelled out and there was a flash of red and blue in the corner of her eye.

With a twang, the wire suddenly broke and Felicia rolled to a stop. Pulling herself up, she noticed the wire hanging uselessly from her glove, the hook end still gouged deep. The Lizard’s one good hand was wrapped around Spider-Woman’s neck and shoulders, her hands scrabbling at the claws and her legs flailing for purchase.

A scream tore from Felicia’s throat and her vision almost blacked out. Pain and fear bubbled up unstoppably inside her; her body began acting on instinct. Her heart like a drum in her ears, she leapt at the Lizard, landing momentarily on his shoulder. Felicia wrapped her hands around the wire still attached to the hook and pulled with a war cry. It came away with a squelch, and Felicia bounced away refusing to look at what was dripping from the metal hook, dropping it to the road and using her other grappling hook to climb to an overhanging crossbar. The Lizard dropped Spider-Woman who fell like a ragdoll and pressed its hand to the wound on the side of its face.

It made a kind of gurgling roar at her, the words coming out its mouth almost forming curse words. Felicia wondered, momentarily, in the parts of her brain not overrun by terror, if somewhere deep down Dr Connors could still talk. Was he screaming out for help?

The powerful muscles in the Lizard’s back legs tensed and released as it pounced towards Felicia. She scrambled up the crossbars out reach of his claws as they tore into the metal beams. It struggled, awkwardly holding itself up, legs pedalling as it blindly pulled the rest of its body onto the narrow bars.

From a level up, Felicia bared her teeth at the monster and spat out, “Come and get me, ugly.”

Enraged, the Lizard leapt for her, claws and fangs grazing into her personal bubble as she stumbled back instinctually. She drew a deep breath, and as she did, the world slowed down to the sound of her heartbeat.

With one beat she flipped herself backwards and up two levels, her mind blocking the pain as her wrist hit a pole. In the next beat, she was up again, hands digging deep into her pockets even as she skipped away from the Lizard. Her fingers found the package, the last gift from the Tinkerer, four explosive devices, strong enough to blow the hinges off a bank safe door. She would have to time this perfectly.

Heart thundering in her chest, Felicia dashed to the edge of the bridge, the Lizard’s breath hot on her heels. She planted the device, set it with the press of her hand and then she climbed, setting two more, before she reached the top of the bridge. Felicia set the last one halfway across the bridge, and waiting on utmost pinnacle of the bridge, stared down at the Lizard and prayed. As the Lizard passed the first explosive, it went off in a puff of smoke but with a noise so loud, Felicia’s ears rang. Gritting her teeth, she vowed not to be close to the fourth one when it went off. The Lizard paused on the bridge as the sound of metal on metal rose up from the explosion, the weight-baring crossbars moaning under new twisted strain. It paused too long and the next two devices exploded consecutively, the concussive blast rippling along the metal up to Felicia’s hand.

The bottom half of the metal structure of the bridge began to cave in on itself, teetering dangerously back towards the road beneath. The last explosion went off, almost blowing Felicia from her perch and simultaneously ripping the cantilever bridge in half. The Lizard looked up at Felicia and hissed in fear.

There was a crunch as the bottom half curled over itself and Felicia and the Lizard were thrust out over the river, hanging horizontally as the bridge continued to twist down. Felicia struggled through the broken metal to crawl out to a place she could get back to the rest of the bridge from. She fired her one working grappling hook. It caught on and pulled her from the falling remains, her shoulder jerking uncomfortably and her thigh scraping deeply against a spike.

Suddenly the wire snagged on something and ripped from the grappling device in her glove. For a long moment, Felicia continued on her swing, before gravity won out over momentum and she began to fall. Felicia screamed then, arms and legs pedalling against the air. Below her, the Lizard echoed her yell as he smacked against a falling piece of shrapnel.

_Shit_ , Felicia thought, mind calm even as her body panicked, her freefall stretching into the minutes.  _This was it._ In just a moment, she would crash into the water, surrounded by pieces of a bridge she’d torn apart. And underwater, the Lizard would get her or her head would smack into some chunk of metal and she’d drown.

She wished she’d told her mother the truth and she wished she’d seen her father again, told him she loved him. Mostly, Felicia wished she’d kissed Mary Jane again. She closed her eyes against the tears, picturing Mary Jane’s red hair glinting in the fading sunlight.

“Black Cat!  _Cat!_ ,” a voice called through her memories, “ _Felicia_ !”

Felicia’s eyes snapped open and she frowned, confused as the flash of red hair seared across the sky.  _No_ , she thought,  _not Mary Jane, Spider-Woman_ .

Spider-Woman was falling towards her, arms outstretched. She looked bruised and bloody and perfect. Felicia overcame her strange complacency and threw her arms upwards, desperately reaching for her hero.

“MJ!” Felicia cried, voice cracking against her throat. There was a heaviness on her chest and she realised Spider-Woman had webbed her across the front, sending another web back up towards the bridge. Felicia jerked to a stop at the same time Spider-Woman did. Shrapnel from the bridge showered down around them.

Spider-Woman hauled her up into her arms and Felicia wrapped her own arms around her, sobbing suddenly. They dangled there, Felicia clutching the superhero, while they both caught their breath. Felicia could feel Spider-Woman’s own heart hammering next to hers. She reached up and pressed her lips against where Mary Jane’s were underneath the mask, desperate and hard.

When they pulled away Spider-Woman laugh. “No one’s tried to kiss me through the mask before.”

Felicia laughed through the shudders wracking her body and wiped her face free from tears on Spider-Woman’s shoulders. “You saved me, oh my god, you actually saved me, fuck I thought I was gonna die,” she babbled.

Spider-Woman tightened her arm around Felicia and made a soothing noise. “I’ve got you, I have you.” She kissed her again, awkwardly through the mask.

They hung there a minute longer, until the Human Torch blazed by.

“Hey, lesbians, that’s hot,” he grinned, pausing in ball of flame mid-air. 

“Piss off, Storm,” Felicia said with no heat. He laughed and shrugged the insult off.

“You two lovebirds better hightail it out of here if you don’t want to be held responsible for all this destruction.” He saluted sarcastically before taking off in a hot red streak. The sound of sirens approached and they exchanged a look with each other.

“Shit, he’s right,” Spider-Woman surprised her with an uncommon display of cursing, “can we go back to your place?”

“Can we get hot dogs first?”

-

The next morning, after spending the night wrapped around each other, Felicia felt stiff and sore and Mary Jane whinged that she felt the same way.

Felicia swallowed a mouthful of hot water and blinked in the shower stream. She scrunched her face up and Mary Jane laughed. Felicia trailed her fingers down the side of Mary Jane’s torso, brushing over the bruise blossoming there. Mary Jane exhaled, tilting forwards to press a kiss to Felicia’s collarbone.

Standing in the running shower, their underwear was soaked. Felicia fingered the shoulder strap of Mary Jane’s bra and pulled her into a proper kiss. They melted against each other, mouths hot even as the shower ran cold. Felicia hissed as the water hit the wound on her thigh. Mary Jane tightened her hand on Felicia’s hip comfortingly.

They slid apart swiftly when there was a knock on the door, Felicia flattening herself against the shower door even as Mary Jane crouched down to the floor of the shower, eyes wide.

“Leesha, darling,” Mrs Hardy’s voice filtered through the bathroom door, “I’ve made breakfast when you want to hop out the shower.”

“T-Thanks, mom,” Felicia stuttered back as Mary Jane stifled a giggle into her fist. Felicia couldn’t help grinning back.

“Oh, and Leesha?” Mrs Hardy continued, “Bring your girlfriend down, too.”

They both choked on shower water.

-

Mary Jane shifted awkwardly in her seat as Felicia entertained the notion of bashing her head against the dining table. Mrs Hardy hummed as she flitted about the kitchen, making coffee. She sat down at the table again, sliding over a mug to Mary Jane who thanked her quietly.

“So, as I was saying,” Mrs Hardy said smiling, an undertone of sternness in her voice, “you don’t need to sneak in and out by the window anymore,  _either_ of you.”

“Sorry,” Mary Jane mumbled, looking away while Felicia replied “yes, mom”.

“Other than that, I have no problem with the two of you dating.”

Felicia and Mary Jane both released a tense breath they didn’t know they were holding.

“Now,” Mrs Hardy said, all severity now, “about this superhero business on the other hand.”

Mary Jane choked on her coffee as Felicia slammed her forehead into the table.

-

The door buzzed harshly as the lock was released and the guard pushed it just open enough for Felicia to squeeze past him. She gave him a dirty look as he leered down at her.

Walter Hardy stood as she came through the door and beamed. He looked around to the other inmates and said quite loudly, “that’s my daughter everyone, she’s a  _hero_ !”

“ _Dad_ ,” Felicia hissed, flushing with embarrassment and partially fear. She reminded herself that just because her mother had figured out her late night escapades, her father couldn’t have put the pieces together from in here. Which left in confusion as to what her father was talking about.

“My little girl,” Mr Hardy leant over to inform a nearby inmate, almost conspiratorially except for the raised decibel of his voice, “helped evacuate her school gymnasium when that Lizard monster attacked. Stayed behind ‘til Spidey got there and everything.”

_Ah, that_ , Felicia thought.  _Seems like even my secret identity can’t stay out of the spotlight._

The other prisoner gave her an appreciative look, which sent a shiver down Felicia’s spine. “You’re a brave one. I saw that  _thing_ and I would have pissed myself facing it down.”

“Thanks,” Felicia responded hesitantly as someone else piped up.

“I heard it’s all over now. That mad scientist washed up just downriver, none the worse. I wonder if we’ll be seeing him soon.”

The room broke out in laughter, Felicia’s father even cracking a grin. He gestured for her to sit down at the smile plastic table before he leant forward to fix her with a serious look. “Now, what’s this I hear about a girlfriend?”

Felicia gave him a deadpan look, already fishing out her mobile phone to show him a picture of Mary Jane. “Gee, word travels fast these days, huh?”

“Well, now that I don’t have much to do, I end up on the phone to your mom a lot,” Mr Hardy inspected the photo with a approving nod and grunt, “I’d say our relationship is the best it’s been in sixteen years.” He winked at her and she rolled her eyes.

“This girl good enough for you, Leesha?” her dad said, half in jest. She took her phone back and shoved it deep in her pocket avoiding his gaze.

“ _More_ than good enough,” she replied, fighting the blush that was working its way up her cheeks. He covered her hand on the table with one of his own bear-like paws, and Felicia marvelled at the difference in size. She really had inherited most of her physical traits from her mother.

“I’m proud of you, kitten. Everything you’ve done,” he paused, visually struggling to find the words, “you’re better than you’re old man in every way.”

With a sharp inhale, Felicia realised he did know. Whether by her mother telling him or his own logical brain at work, he knew about Black Cat and everything that had followed her donning that hoodie. She was completely tongue-tied in the face of his honesty.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” Felicia burst out, twisting her hand to hold his and squeeze tightly. “I was,” but she couldn’t finish her sentence. She so badly wanted to say  _angry, afraid_ or  _sad_ , yet it all seemed like excuses in the moment.

“I know, Leesha,” Mr Hardy soothed, squeezing her hand back, “you were busy.”

He smiled sadly and she returned the expression, eyes prickling and unable to stop her chin wobbling. Cooing, her dad moved around the table to hug her, Felicia threw her arms around his neck, crying in earnest.

_This is the first time I’ve cried since it all began_ , Felicia thought, and then remembered she’d cried last night when Spider-Woman caught her.  _This is the first time I’ve cried from grief, then_ , she told her decisively.  _And the last. It’ll all get better from here._

“I love you, dad,” she got out, between watery sniffs. He crushed her against his chest, until she thought she wouldn’t be able to breathe again.

“I love you, too, kitten,” he mumbled into her hair, pressing a dry kiss there, “I really do.”

-

“Did everything go alright?” Mary Jane said, face lined with concern, as Felicia landed on the roof, later that afternoon. It was definitely Mary Jane, because she still had her sweat pants and basketball jersey on over her Spider-Woman suit and the mask-slash-helmet was still tucked in her backpack, taking up the seat next to the redhead’s perch on the side of the building.

Felicia scrunched up her face thinking about it. “Yeah,” she said with some relief, dropping down into the space next to Mary Jane. “He’s okay.”

She distracted herself by pulling her hoodie out of her own bag, confident Mary Jane would web both their belongings up somewhere safe before they engaged in a little late-night stroll ‘n’ patrol.

“And are you okay?” Mary Jane prompted, nudging her with her shoulder, so that Felicia wobbled in her seat and bounced back against her.

“Let’s see,” Felicia said, mock-thinking, “I’m a wanted criminal, my dad’s in jail, my mom’s going to be eternally worried about my father  _and_ I, my girlfriend’s a well-known superhero who had to save me from falling to my own death yesterday because I thought it would be a good idea to take on a messed-up Lizard monster and blow up a bridge.” She paused for effect, fixing Mary Jane with a critical look. “I’m working on the  _okay_ , but I’m still here.”

“Well,” Mary Jane said brightly, wrapping her arm around her shoulder, “on the bright side, you have a girlfriend who’s a superhero and so do I!”

Felicia snorted and rolled her eyes. “After yesterday, I’m pretty sure the  _Bugle_ and half of New York is convinced I’m a  _terrorist_ .”

“That’s okay. The  _Daily Bugle_ doesn’t like me either.”

“I don’t feel like a hero,” Felicia bit her lip, “I didn’t save Dr Connors.”

“No, but now they can  _help_ him. And you saved me.”

Felicia rolled her eyes. “The optimism is just not going to stop with you, is it?”

“Hmm, probably not,” Mary Jane kicked her feet out from the building, “I find it much harder to get all self-depreciative and maudlin with you around.”

Felicia didn’t reply, instead bridging the gap to kiss Mary Jane instead. Her breathlessness, as they parted, had nothing to do with the kiss itself and all to do with the girl she shared it with.

“So,” Mary Jane said when they were quite finished kissing shyly and smiling stupidly at each other, “patrol? Or food first?”

“Food first, always food first,” Felicia replied.

“Pizza?”

“Pizza.”

They dropped down off the building, catching themselves on window ledges, overhangs and fire stairs until they hit the pavement. Felicia inhaled a long, slow breath, smiling as she reached for Mary Jane’s hand.

_This_ , she thought,  _this would be okay, too_ .

**Author's Note:**

> So, I sort of borrowed quite generously from Raimi’s Spider-Man trilogy and also most of The Amazing Spider-Man’s plot to make up this fic (first in what may be a never complete alternate universe of my own invention). I gave MJ the biological ability to spin webs because I didn’t want to change her whole character to a science nerd capable of the level of chemistry needed to create the web-fluid and shooters (which is not to say that that wouldn’t also work, but you can’t take every path all at once). And on the same note, MJ didn’t have the Parkers as parents able to provide Connors with the necessary formula to perfect his serum (à la TASM) leading to what I hope came across as a less evolved Lizard.
> 
> Anyway, now I’m done justifying my artistic decisions to you (and mostly myself), thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!


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